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THE 

SECRET OF SUCCESS 



OR 



HOW TO GET ON IN THE WORLD 



WITH SOME REMARKS UPON TRUE AND FALSE SUCCESS, 
AND THE ART OF MAKING THE BEST USE OF LIFE 



W. H. DAVENPORT ADAMS 

AUTHOR OF '"ENGLISH PARTY LEADERS," "THE BIRD WORLD, 
" MEMORABLE BATTLES IN ENGLISH HISTORY," ETC. 



M 



American Edition Edited by 
P. G„ H. 



' The talent of success is nothing more than doing what you can do well. 

— H. W. Longfellow 



NEW YORK 

G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 

l82 FIFTH AVENUE 
1879 



c> 1879. V 
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Copyright by 
G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 

1879 



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PREFACE 



IT must be admitted at the outset, that in the following 
pages I have no exclusive, peculiar, or wonderful " Secret " 
to unfold. If there be a royal road to knowledge, I know of 
none to success, and I make no pretensions to have discovered 
a shorter or easier path than before existed. The reader who 
takes up this book in the hope of learning some new way of 
Money-making, some fresh exposition of the gospel of Getting- 
on, may find himself disappointed. I do indeed profess to set 
forth the Secret of Success ; but it is a secret which has always 
been known to the successful. And then, again, the "Suc- 
cess " to which I seek to direct the reader's attention is no 
novel form of worldly prosperity, no extraordinary phase of 
fortune, but rather the acquisition of "a sound mind in a 
sound body," the complete culture of the physical, moral and 
intellectual faculties of the individual. It is true that I have 
not neglected the ordinary meaning which the world gives to 
"success," nor do I wish to contend that competent means for 
the wholesome enjoyment of life is not a very reasonable and 
proper object for a man's energies. But I have endeavored to 
realize for the word a wider and higher significance, and to 



IV PREFACE. 

deal with it as representing the development of mind, soul and 
body — the living, so far as is possible to man, a " perfect life." 
This is the only " success " which secures happiness. The 
materialistic "success," — the "success" of the great specu- 
lator, the millionaire — is too frequently a deplorable failure. 
" I confess," says Mr. Hillard, " that increasing years bring 
with them an increasing respect for men who do not succeed 
in life, as these words are commonly used." Men who do not 
succeed in life, as the Croesuses of society succeed, are the 
men who work for the good of their fellows, the men who 
endow the world with the masterpieces of art and literature, 
the men who in the happiness of others find their own happi- 
ness. It is well that the reader, whatever pursuit or calling he 
may adopt, should do his best in it ; that is a matter of duty 
and honor which cannot be conscientiously neglected. 

It is told of a certain merchant-prince of Boston, that, on 
one occasion, he reprimanded for slovenly work a mechanic 
who had known him when in a very humble position. " I tell 
you what, Billy Gray," exclaimed the man, "I shan't stand 
such words from you. Why, I can remember when you were 
nothing but a drummer in a regiment!" "And so I was," 
retorted the merchant ; "so I was a drummer ; but didn't I 
drum well, eh? — didn't I drum well?" Now, to my thinking, 
this " drumming well " is the true, the genuine success. I hold 
that " success in life " is doing one's duty as well as it can be 
done in whatever may be one's position ; not for the sake of 
the reward that may accompany it, and yet not despising or 
refusing that reward when it comes. In this kind of success 
there is a pure and permanent pleasure, wholly unknown to 



PREFACE. V 

those for whom Success is synonymous with Mammon. The 
steadfast striving for this loftier success can never be without a 
happy issue. As Dr. Donne says :-— 

" We are but farmers of ourselves ; yet may, 
If we can stock ourselves and thrive, uplay 
Much, much good treasure for the great rent-day." 

If virtue be its own best recompense, so is the love of knowl- 
edge. The habit of diligent application, the habit of temperate 
living, the habit of high thinking, ever carries in itself a bless- 
ing. The cultivation of such habits is the Secret of Success ; 
and it is a secret which lies within the reach of all of us, if we 
will but use our opportunities and our means aright. Count 
Hamilton said of Richelieu, that " this great man commanded 
little armies, and little armies did great things." Let not the 
reader be discouraged if his means be small ; he may accom- 
plish great things with them if he once lay firm hold upon the 
Secret of Success. 

It may be objected to the present volume that it follows in 
the track of worthy predecessors, such as the evergreen " Pur- 
suit of Knowledge under Difficulties," by Mr. Craik, and the 
admirable " Self-Help, " by Mr. Smiles. To some extent, no 
doubt, it traverses the same ground. On the other hand, it 
devotes a considerable space to illustrations from the depart- 
ments of ''business" and "commerce" — departments which 
have hitherto, at least for such purposes, been comparatively 
overlooked ; and it pursues more than one course of inquiry 
which previous writers have scarcely glanced at. Another and 
obvious objection is, that it says nothing absolutely new ; that 
it repeats truths which have become the commonplaces of 



VI PREFACE. 

moralists and the stock-in-trade of our social teachers. But 
truths of so much importance cannot be too frequently en- 
forced. Their repetition may impress minds which have not 
been impressed before, and they may be accompanied with fresh 
examples or presented in newer forms, so as to arrest the atten- 
tion of the careless, or suggest to the thoughtful new lines of 
reflection. I have done what I could in this direction. While 
availing myself of the best of the illustrations collected by my 
predecessors, I have gathered a very large number from addi- 
tional sources ; and accumulated in these pages the results of 
the reading and observation of many years. So that, to the 
question which concerns every young man so closely, " How 
am I to get on in the world ? " I hope I have furnished a 
tolerably exhaustive and not altogether unsatisfactory reply. 

The keynote of that reply may be found in the words of a 
great writer : — " It is no man's business whether he has genius 
or not ; work he must, whatever he is, but quietly and steadily, 
and the natural and unforced results of such work will be 
always the things that God meant him to do, and will be his 
best. No agonies nor heartrendings will make him to do any 
better ! If he be a great man, they will be great things ; if he 
be a small man, small things ; but always, if thus peacefully 
done, good and right ; always, if restlessly and ambitiously 
done, false, hollow and despicable." And again : — ''While in 
all things that we see or do, we are to desire perfection, and 
strive for it. We are nevertheless not to set the meaner thing 
in its narrow accomplishment above the nobler thing in its 
mighty progress ; not to esteem smooth minuteness above 
shattered majesty ; not to prefer mean victory to honorable 



PREFACE. VII 

defeat ; not to lower the level of our aim, that we may the 
more surely enjoy the complacency of success." 

Though I have not thought it my duty or my province to 
encroach upon the work of the teachers of religion. I have 
not forgotten that the happiness of the Other Life depends 
upon the way in which Success in this life is achieved or 
understood. I have not forgotten that the spiritual side of our 
complex humanity needs watchful and assidious cultivation as 
much as its intellectual or moral. Sir George Mackenzie was 
of opinion that irreligious men could never make good states- 
men ; " for none are such," he says " save they who from a 
principle of conviction or persuasion (say rather a religious 
sense of duty) manage public affairs to the advantage of those 
who employ them." I fancy the rule may be universally ap- 
plied ; and that men indifferent to religious considerations can- 
not make good artists, good poets, good members of society. 
Finally, I offer this book to my young readers in the sincere 
desire that it may be of practical benefit to them ; that it may 
help to encourage, to stimulate, to warn : that it may quicken 
them to a sense of life's value as a period of preparation ; that 
it may open up to them the path to a true, a real, and a lasting 
Success. They who still stand at the point of departure may 
surely profit by the counsel of the feeblest traveller who has 
performed a considerable portion of the journey, and been 
taught by experience its trials, difficulties and dangers. 

W. H. Davenport Adams. 



CONTENTS. 

Time and Its Uses 5 

Aims in Life 29 

A Steady Purpose . . . . . . -55 

The Three P's — Punctuality, Prudence, Perse- 
verance 75 

Business Habits 10 1 

Business Men and Business Notes . . . .191 

The Race and the Athlete . . . . 251 

Self Help 287 

Reasonable Service and True Success . . 343 



KEY-NOTES 



" Nitorin adversum is the motto for a man like me." — Edmund Burke. 

** What men most covet, wealth, distinction, power, 
Are baubles nothing 1 worth ; they only serve 
To rouse us up, as children at the school 
Are roused up to exertion ; our reward 
Is in the race we run, not in the prize." 

— Rogers. 

'* Men must know that in this theatre of human life it remaineth only to 
God and the angels to be lookers-on." — Lord Bacon. 

" A sacred burden is the life ye bear ; 
Look on it, lift it, bear it solemnly ; 
Stand up and walk beneath it steadfastly. 
Fail not for sorrow, falter not for sin, 
But onward, upward, till the goal ye win." 

— Frances Anne Kemble. 

• 

" There is always hope in a man that actually and earnestly works. In 
idleness alone is there perpetual despair." — Carlyle. 

" Pitch thy behavior low, thy projects high, 

So shalt thou humble and magnanimous be. 
Sink not in spirit ; who aimeth at the sky 

Shoots higher much than he that means a tree." 

— George Herbert. 

" When all is holiday, there are no holidays." — Charles Lamb. 

" Seek not proud riches, but such as thou mayest get justly, use soberly, 
distribute cheerfully, and leave contentedly ; yet have no abstract or friarly 
contempt of them." — Lord Bacon. 



2 KEY NOTES. 

** On ne vaut que ce qu'on veut savoir." — La Bruylre. 

** * What shall I do to gain eternal life ? 
Discharge aright 
The simple dues with which each day is rife ? 

Yea, with thy might. 
Ere perfect scheme of action thou devise 

Life will be fled, 
While he who ever acts as conscience cries. 
Shall live though dead." 

—Schiller. 

" A high degree of moral principle is in itself a necessary qualification in 
a post of trust and responsibility, and it is usually associated with a culti- 
vated and improved state of the intellectual faculties." — Sir Henry Taylor. 




CHAPTER I. 

TIME AND ITS USES. 

" He lives long that lives well ; and time mis-spent is not lived, but 
lost." — Thomas Fuller. 

" Not on flowery beds, nor under shade 
Of canopy reposing, heaven is won." 

— Dante. 

" For of all sad words of tongue or pen, 

The saddest are these, ' It might have been ! ' " 

—y. G. Whittier. 

" How dull it is to pause, to make an end. 
To rust unburnished, not to shine in use ! 
As though to breathe were life. Life piled on life 
Were all too little, and of one to me 
Little remains : but every hour is saved 
From that eternal silence, something more, 
A bringer of new things." 

— Tennyson, 

" Thrift of time will repay you in after-life with a usury of profit beyond 
your most sanguine dreams ; while the waste of it will make you dwindle, 
alike in intellectual and moral stature, beyond your darkest reckonings," — 
Right Hon. W. E. Gladstone. 




CHAPTER I. 



TIME AND ITS USES, 



THE commodity of which every man has the least, and, 
generally speaking, wastes the most, is Time. When 
we consider how small is the portion allotted to each of us, 
we cannot but wonder at the carelessness with which men 
expend it. Of all the trite themes touched by moralists and 
poets, the tritest is the shortness of life. Life, we are told, is 
a bubble, a shifting dream, a thing of nought, evanescent as a 
morning mist, uncertain as a young maid's promise, brittle as a 
reed ; and yet men proceed to deal with it as if it were inex- 
haustible as the widow's cruse of oil, as if it were as sure and 
stable as the foundations of the everlasting hills. There is 
something very curious and very pitiable in this. When we 
see the waste of time which goes on around us, we cannot but 
marvel whether the teaching of sages and divines, and the les- 
sons of centuries of experience, have been of any avail ; 
whether men have even yet learned to realize how precious a 
thing it is, how solemn a responsibility it brings with it, how 
great a trust it puts into their hands. Does this waste arise 
from want of thought, or from want of a sense of duty ? The 
two causes are closely connected, and may very well exert a 



° TIME AND ITS USES. 

combined influence. It is difficult to believe that the great 
majority of time wasters are inspired by feelings of reckless- 
ness and desperation ; are in a feverish hurry to consume as 
rapidly and as waywardly as possible the precious treasure 
committed to their charge. Their folly is doubtless due to an 
unwillingness or an inability to reflect, and to the absence of 
high purposes and lofty motives. In most cases they have not 
been taught how to value time or how to use it. What they 
should do with that which is their real wealth, our children 
never learn. We provide them with instruction in the "vari- 
ous branches of a polite education ; " we open up to them the 
regions of art and science ; we guide them sedulously in the 
flowery paths of literature ; but we do not teach them how to 
employ and economize their time. We don't impress upon 
them the value of the minutes : " Take care of the minutes, 
and the days will take care of themselves." It is astonishing 
how much " raw material " is allowed to run to waste in every 
school. Precious quarters of an hour are thrown aside which 
might be turned to excellent account ; and thus the young 
grow accustomed to a thoughtless and unprofitable expendi- 
ture. They find, too frequently, the same waste at home. 
Time is squandered before and after meals, in the morning, in 
the evening, up-stairs and down-stairs, in the bedroom, and 
the dining-room, and the drawing-room ; and at the end of 
each day the burden is, " This should have been done, and 
has been left undone ; that should have been remembered and 
has been forgotten ; but never mind, we'll make up for lost 
time to-morrow ! " Yes, to-morrow ! We venture to say that 
no other word in our language has to answer for so much sin 
and folly, for so many broken vows, so many blighted hopes, 



TIME AND ITS USES. 7 

so many neglected duties, so many wrecked lives. For the 
worst of it is, " to-morrow " never comes. It is always " to- 
day " and " yesterday." The yesterday we can never recall ; 
can never take up and absorb into to-day. When once it is 
dead, let it lie. There is nothing more to be done but to shed 
a tear on its grave, and turn to the to-day. Some people, be it 
said, waste a good deal of time in grieving over the time they 
waste. In other words, they spend the day in fretting over the 
useless yesterday. It is said of the Emperor Titus that when 
he had done no good deed in the course of a day he would 
exclaim, " Perdidi diem ! " The lament was natural ; but be 
it remembered he did not wait until the morrow to make it, and 
he did not fail to turn the " to-day " to better account by pro- 
fessing his regret over the yesterday that had gone out so 
blankly. We desire to advocate a constant recollection of the 
inestimable value of " minutes," but not a vain yearning after 
those that can never be recovered. 

Men become great and good just as they understand how to 
make use of their time.* The most brilliant genius avails its 
possessor nothing if he do not seize his opportunities ; and 
opportunities never occur to the spendthrift. The hours he 
wastes may be the very hours that would have insured his 
success. Therefore it is that, at the outset of the present 
volume, we seek to enforce on its readers the necessity of 
economising time, of turning every minute to the best advan- 
tage. That seems to us the very first lesson to be learned by 

* In his last hours the American merchant, Gideon Lee, specially enjoined 
upon his sons, speaking to them with all the authority of experience, to "fill 
up the measure of time." " Be always employed profitably," he said, "in 
doing good, in building up ; aim to promote the good of yourselves and of 
society. No one can do much good without doing some harm, but you 
will do less harm by striving to do good. Be industrious, and be honest." 



8 TIME AND ITS USES. 

a young man who honestly desires to do his duty towards his 
God and his neighbor. Let him not trouble himself about his 
talents or his means ; he can at least say, with the celebrated 
Italian, that " Time is his estate," and his first care must be 
to understand its proper cultivation. We think it is Horace 
Mann who suggests that most young men (and, we fear, too 
many of riper years) might daily put forth some such melan- 
choly notice as the following : " Lost, yesterday, somewhere 
between sunrise and sunset, two golden hours, each one worth 
sixty diamond minutes. No reward is offered, for they are 
gone forever." Gone forever ! in these words lies the sting 
of the moralist. Bitter jest ! What more deplorable sight can 
there be than that too common one of the unfortunate who has 
lost (in other words, wasted) a " golden hour" at the beginning 
of the day, and for the rest of the twenty-four is fruitlessly 
endeavoring to overtake it ? * Why, it is gone irrevocably ; 
like the empire of the Pharaohs, like the wisdom of the Chal- 
deans, like the old man's youth, like last year's summer sun- 
shine. It would be easier to rebuild the temple-palaces of 
Karnak than to recover it. And hence it happens that people 
are incessantly complaining of want of time. It is astonishing 
how much good not done is idly attributed to this cause. We 
know persons who, according to their own account, would sur- 
pass John Howard in philanthrophy if they had but the time ; 
would visit the sick, and relieve the poor, and comfort the 
widow and the fatherless in their affliction, if they had but the 
time. There are others who would become modern Maglia- 
becchis by virtue of their erudition ; would carve out for 



* As Lord Chesterfield said of the Duke of Newcastle. " His Grace loses 
an hour in the morning, and is looking for it all the rest of the day." 



METHOD MAKES TIME. 9 

themselves a way to fame or fortune, would benefit the world 
by their discoveries in science or art, if they had but the time. 
Listen to their complaints, and you would believe that every 
moment is charged with some imperative duty or necessary 
occupation ; that it is want of time, and not its misuse, that 
throws them so hopelessly out of the world's race. 

The truth is, that Method makes Time. The old adage 
runs, " A place for everything, and everything in its place." 
It would be wiser to say, " A time for everything, and every- 
thing in its time." If we mix and muddle our hours as some 
men mix and muddle their papers, no good result can be 
anticipated. A careful apportionment of the hours is the first 
step towards a successful employment of them. We do not 
ask the reader to enthral himself in an intolerable bondage. 
Time must be his servant, and not he the slave of time. But 
he should be guided by certain fixed rules, and allow of no 
causeless deviation from them. One man will be found to 
accomplish in a day as much as another man accomplishes in 
a week. Inquiry will show that the difference is due not so 
much to greater power of intellect, or greater quickness of 
apprehension, as to better application of time. The successful 
man never talks of " leisure," because he never has any. He 
has for every hour its proper task. It is only the idler who 
has leisure ; leisure for small talk, for idle pleasures, for trivial 
amusements, for hopes and fears and regrets. He has so much 
leisure that he never has any time for work ! There is such an 
element of expansion in leisure that, unless carefully repressed 
and limited, it will before long absorb a man's whole life. Like 
the monster that Frankenstein created, it soon defies the con- 
trol of its master. Leisure ! How in this busy human life of 



IO TIME AND ITS USES. 

ours can any serious mind find space for it ? Unhappy is he 
who has " an hour or two" to spare. We may be sure that he 
has never learned the value of time, nor the necessity of econo- 
mising it. 

The world owes much to the men who have made the best 
of every minute. Such men have been its leaders of thought, 
its great discoverers, its poets, its essayists, its doers of good. 
They have known how to utilize those odd half-hours and spare 
quarters which ordinary persons treat with so little considera- 
tion. They have never suffered a minute to pass without 
levying toil upon it. As Cuvier rolled in his carriage from 
place to place, he read and thought ; and the sum of that read- 
ing and thinking swelled his researches in " Comparative Anat- 
omy." While walking to and from the dusty office, where he 
occupied a stool of a lawyer's clerk, Henry Kirke White ac- 
quired a knowledge of Greek. Dr. Mason Good's excellent 
translation of the great metaphysical poem of Lucretius was 
composed during his daily journeys to his numerous patients. 
A German physician in the same way contrived to commit to 
memory the " Iliad " of Homer. Sir Matthew Hale, while trav- 
elling as judge on circuit, prepared his thoughtful and well- 
weighed " Contemplations." Dr. Darwin's curious scientific 
poems were jotted down on little bits of paper as his carriage 
conveyed him from house to house. These men acted on the 
poet's admonition : — 

" Think nought a trifle, though it small appear; 
Small sands the mountain, moments make the year, 
And trifles, life." 

When those trifles are minutes, wise men pick them up. Hugh 
Miller, while laboring as a stone-mason, made such good use of 
his, that he learned to write a style of remarkable fluency and 



' ' NE VER BE UN EM PL YED. " 1 1 

vigor. The Chancellor d'Aguesseau translated the Greek Tes- 
tament in the quarters of an hour which his wife wasted before 
dinner. Elihu Burritt, the "learned blacksmith," improved to 
such good purpose the odds and ends of time that fell to his 
disposal, as to gain a mastery of eighteen languages and twenty- 
two dialects. Equally expert in the utilization of unconsidered 
moments was the late Charles Kingsley, whose multifarious 
knowledge was acquired by his tact in seizing on every oppor- 
tunity. Robertson of Brighton was also a stern economist of 
time, and vigilantly looked after those "spare minutes " which 
most of us throw away without a pang of remorse. Franklin's 
hours of study were stolen from the time that should have been 
given to meals and sleep ; and though we do not recommend 
the practice, we think better of it than of the habit of stealing 
the too long time for meal and sleep from the hours that should 
be devoted to work. " We are now old," said Pierre Nicole to 
Arnaul • " is it not time to rest ? " *' Rest ! " was the grave re- 
ply ; " have we not all eternity to rest in ? " This has been the 
principle of conduct of all great thinkers and doers. They 
have methodised and economised their time, so as to get out of 
it the most thay could ; knowing that rest was not for time but 
for eternity. They have suffered nothing to pass by unheeded. 
They have anticipated or remembered the language of Goethe '. 
— " Do not wait for extraordinary opportunities, but make use 
of common situations. A long-continued walk is better than a 
short flight." " Never be unemployed," says John Wesley ; 
"never be triflingly employed, never while away time," an 
admirable maxim, if not too sternly enforced ; if not converted 
into an oppressive law. We add this caution, because whole- 
some recreation may sometimes be the best way of employing 



12 TIME AND ITS USES. 

"an odd quarter of an hour." We are recommending the 
economy of time, but we are not unwilling that that economy- 
should include a rational amount of mental refreshment. We 
are the enemies of leisure, but we do not want every hour to 
be spent in exactly the same way, and at exactly the same 
expenditure of brain-power. A man should be always learn- 
ing : but not unfrequently he may learn most when least think- 
ing of it. "Every kind of knowledge," it has been justly said, 
"comes into play some time or other; not only that which 
is systematic and methodised, but that which is fragmentary, 
even the odds and ends, the merest rag or tag of information. 
Single facts, anecdotes, expressions, recur to the mind, and, by 
the power of association, just in the right place. Many of 
these are laid in during what we think our idlest days. All 
that fund of matter which is used allusively in similitudes or 
illustrations is collected in diversions from the path of hard 
study. He will do best in this line whose range has been the 
widest and freest. A man may study so much by rule as to 
lose all this, just as one may ride so much in the highway as to 
know nothing that is off the road." 

The occupations of our childhood are frequently found to 
color and influence our later life. As Cowley puts it, they are 
like letters engraved on the bark of a young tree, which grow 
and enlarge as the tree does. Watt sits by the fireside, with 
eyes intent upon the cover of the tea-kettle uplifted by the 
expansive force of steam, and receives an impulse and an 
impression which guide him in his after pursuits, until he gives 
to the world his great gift of the steam-engine. The boy 
Smeaton climbs to the roof-ridge of his father's barn to erect 
upon it the tiny wind-mill he has modelled, foreshadowing, as 



OCCUPATIONS OF CHILDHOOD. 1 3 

it were, the boldness of invention which produced the Eddy- 
stone lighthouse. Conington, at the age of six, sleeps with his 
Bible under his pillow, that he may begin to read it as soon as 
he wakes. Two years later he amuses himself by comparing 
different editions of Virgil. When he reaches thirteen he 
exhausts his pocket-money in buying a copy of Sotheby's 
Homer. The late Professor Mozley displays the " controver- 
sial spirit in the nursery," and as the advocate of free-will, 
disputes with his nurse, whom he considers to have been led 
away by a sophistical curate. At thirteen he writes to his 
mother : — " I have gone into Lucretius, a book full of odd 
opinions and deistical notions. In short, he is called the 
deistical poet ; but as many of his opinions have long ago 
been refuted, you need be in no fear of my getting them into 
my head, especially as many of them seem to be absurd." 
Tournefort leaves his college class, and wanders into the lone 
meadows, gathering their plants and flowers. He is laying the 
foundation of a great system of botany, Count Zinzendorf, 
the founder of the Moravians, when a boy at school, founds a 
little society, which he calls the " Order of the grain of mus- 
tard seed," and of which the badge is a gold ring, inscribed 
with the words, " None of us liveth to himself." Cowley in 
his mother's parlor pores over the enchanted pages of the 
" Faery Queen," and derives the inspiration which makes him 
in after years a poet. Opie, the Cornish artist, watches a com- 
panion drawing a butterfly, and thence receives the bias which 
leads him onward to a distinguished reputation. In the parlor 
window of the old mossy vicarage where Coleridge spent his 
dreamy childhood lay a well-thumbed copy of that volume of 
Oriental fancy, the " Arabian Nights." And he has told us 



1 4 TIME AND ITS USES. 

with what mingled desire and apprehension he was wont to 
look at the precious book, until the morning sunshine had 
touched and illuminated it, when, seizing it hastily, he would 
carry it off in triumph to some leafy nook in the vicarage gar- 
den, and plunge delightedly into its maze of marvels and 
enchantments. It is recorded of Dr. Johnson that in his boy- 
hood, believing that his brother had hidden some apples beneath 
a large folio which reposed among the dust and cobwebs of an 
upper shelf in his father's shop, he clambered thither to effect 
a capture. The apples were not forthcoming, but the folio, 
which proved to be the works of Petrarch, attracted his atten- 
tion, and its perusal awoke in him his dormant literary tastes. 
That the child is father of the man was shown by the early 
occupations of Macaulay. He was only eight years old when 
his mother wrote of him ; — " He gets on wonderfully in all 
branches of his education, and the extent of his reading, and 
of the knowledge he has derived from it, are truly astonish- 
ing. * * To give you some idea of the activity of his mind 
I will mention a few circumstances. * * He took it 
into his head to write a compendium of universal history about 
a year ago, and he really contrived to give a tolerably con- 
nected view of the leading events from the creation to the 
present time, filling about a quire of paper. He told me one 
day that he had been writing a paper, which Henry Daly (a 
friend of his father's) was to translate into Malabar, to per- 
suade the people of Travancore to embrace the Christian re- 
ligion. On reading it, I found it to contain a very clear idea 
of the leading facts and doctrines of that religion, with some 
strong arguments for its adoption. He was so fired with read- 
ing Scott's 'Lay' and 'Marmion,' the former of which he got 



SIR WILLIAM JONES. I 5 

entirely, and the latter almost entirely, by heart, merely from 
his delight in reading them, that he determined on writing a 
poem in six cantos, which he called the * Battle of Cheviot.' 
After he had finished about three of the cantos of about '120 
lines each, which he did in a couple of days, he became tired of 
it. I make no doubt he would have finished his design, "but, as 
he was proceeding with it, the thought struck him of writing an 
heroic poem to be called ' Olaus the Great, or the Conquest of 
Mona,' in which, after the manner of Virgil, he might intro- 
duce in prophetic song, the future fortunes of the family j 
among others, those of the hero who aided in the fall of the 
tyrant of Mysore, after having long suffered from his tyranny ; 
and of another of his race who had exerted himself for the 
deliverance of the wretched Africans. He has just begun it. 
He has composed I know not how many hymns." Such was 
Macaulay in his childhood, and such he was in his manhood. 
No man ever economised his time more wisely, or more dili- 
gently sought every opportunity of adding to his accumulation 
of knowledge. 

In nearly every book on this subject that has come under 
our notice, the example of Sir William Jones, the famous Ori- 
ental scholar, has been adduced : and trite as it is, its force of 
application is such that we are disposed to revive it in these 
pages. To such good purpose did he use his minutes, so few 
did he waste, that before he was twenty years of age he had 
acquired a complete acquaintance with Greek and Latin, Ital- 
ian, Spanish and Portuguese, and had also made considerable 
progress in Arabic and Persian. His successful economy of 
time and his ceaseless pursuit of knowledge eventually ele- 
vated him to a seat in the Supreme Court of Indian judicature. 



l6 TIME AND ITS USES. 

His biographers have remarked with interest how carefully he 

allotted to each hour the work appropriate for it, how precise 

he was in his methodical division of labor. The great lawyer 

of James I's reign, Sir Edward Coke, had portioned out his 

days as follows : — 

*' Six hours in sleep, in law's grave study six, 

Four spent in prayer, the rest on Nature fix." 

Sir William adopted a distribution much more earnestly to be 

commended : — 

*' Seven hours to law, to soothing slumbers seven, 
Ten to the world allot, and all to Heaven. 

The reader will not be displeased with the wise and discrimin- 
ating remarks which the career of the distinguished Orientalist 
suggested to Lord Jeffrey : — 

"From the very commencement," he says, "he appears to 
have taxed himself very highly ; and having in early youth set 
before his eyes the standard of a noble and accomplished char- 
acter in every department of excellence, he seems never to 
have lost sight of this object of emulation, and never to have 
remitted his exertions to elevate and conform himself to it in 
every particular. Though born in a condition very remote 
from affluence, he soon determined to give himself the educa- 
tion of a finished gentleman, and not only to cultivate all the 
elegance and refinement implied in that appellation, but to 
carry into the practice of an honorable profession all the lights 
and ornaments of philosophy and learning, and, extending his 
ambition beyond the attainment of mere literary or professional 
eminence, to qualify himself for the management of public 
affairs, and to look forward to the higher rewards of patriot- 
ism, virtue and political skill. 



" TIME IS MONEY." 1 7 

" The perseverance and exemplary industry," — continues Lord 
Jeffrey, — " with which he labored to carry out his magnificent 
plan, and the distinguished success attending the accomplish- 
ment of all that part of it which the shortness of his life per- 
mitted him to execute, afford an instructive lesson to all who 
may be inclined by equal diligence to deserve an equal 
reward. The more we learn, indeed, of the early history 
of those who have bequeathed a great name to posterity, 
the more shall we be persuaded that no substantial or per- 
manent excellence can ever be attained without much pains, 
labor, and preparation, and that extraordinary talents are less 
necessary to the most brilliant success than perseverance and 
application." 

" Time is money," says the proverb. If some people we 
know were of the same opinion, how careful they would be of 
it ! But it is also happiness, and peace of mind, and the fulfil- 
ment of the Divine commission intrusted to us at birth. It is, 
in truth, the chief good upon earth, if we do but know how to 
make it so. For, be it remembered, time is exactly what we 
make it ; in the hands of the wise, a blessing ; in the hands of 
the foolish, a curse ; in the hands of the wise, a preparation for 
life eternal ; in the hands of the foolish, a preparation for the 
condemnation that is everlasting. To you it is much ; to your 
neighbor it is naught. He is as anxious to throw it away as 
you (we hope) are anxious to cultivate it to the greatest advan- 
tage. Ah, if all of us did but know what it is, what it signifies, 
what it might be, how we should watch over every grain in the 
hour-glass ! How great would be our activity, how solicitous 
our labor, how profound our consciousness of duty ! How 
we should aspire to avail ourselves of each passing moment ! 



1 8 TIME AND ITS USES. 

How keen would be our regret if conscience could speak to us 
of days wasted and opportunities neglected ! 

In commenting on the importance of thrift in regard to time, 
it would be easy to lay down a few practical and familiar rules 
for the benefit of the young adventurer in life's chequered 
career. As, for instance : — 

One thing at a time.* 

Do at once what ought to be done at once. 

Never put off till to-morrow what ought to be done to-day. 

Never leave to another that which you can do yourself. 

More haste, worse speed. 

Stay a little that we may make an end the sooner. 

But more is to be learned from example than precept ; and 
the lives of great men, or of men good and great, will prove of 
higher and more lasting value to the student than the most pre- 
cious fragments of proverbial philosophy. Show me a man 
who has attained to eminence or excellence, and you show me 
a man who has economised his time. Show me a man who has 
benefited the world by his wisdom, or his country by his 
patriotism, or his neighborhood by his philanthropy, and you 
show me a man who has made the best of every minute. In 
business, the men who have attained success are the men who 
have known the importance of method, the men who have 
appreciated the potentiality of time. Of Tours, the wealthy 
New Orleans shipowner, it is said that " he was as methodical 
and regular as a clock, and that his neighbours were in the 
habit of judging of the time of day by his movements." Of 
William Gray, the Boston merchant, who owned at one time 
upwards of sixty large ships, we read that for upwards of fifty 

* So the Rev. Robert Cecil said, " The shortest way to do many things is 
to do only one thing at once." 



REAL WORKERS. 



19 



years he arose at dawn, and was ready for the work of the day 
before others had roused from their slumbers. These are the 
men who make prize of the world and all it has to give ; these 
are the men who have coined minutes into hours and hours in- 
to days. These are the men who are always doing much in 
order that they may be able to do a little more I 



CHAPTER II. 

AIMS IN LIFE. 

" Be what nature intended you for, and you will succeed ; be anything 
else, and you will be ten thousand times worse than nothing," — Sydney 
Smith. 

" The crowning fortune of a man is to be born with a bias to some pur- 
suit which finds him in employment and happiness." — R. W. Emerson. 

" That man is but of the lower part of the world that is not brought up 
to business and affairs." — Owen Felthom. 

" It \s an uncontroverted truth that no man ever made an ill figure who 
understood his own talents, nor a good one who mistook them." — Dean 
Swift. 

" I have never known an individual, least of all an individual of genius, 
healthy or happy without a profession, i. e., some regular employment. 
which does not depend on the will of the moment, and which can be carried 
on so far mechanically that an average quantum only of health, spirits, and 
intellectual exertion are requisite to its faithful discharge." — S. T. Coleridge. 



CHAPTER II. 

AIMS IN LIFE. 

"T^THAT shall I be?" is the question that a young 
v f man necessarily proposes to himself, — and " What 
shall we make of him ? " is the question his parents or guard- 
ians propose for him — at that eventful epoch when, taking a 
farewell look at the rose-garden of his youth, he prepares to 
enter the wilderness of the " wide world." In a different 
sense from any intended by Madame de Stael, the first step is 
the only difficulty {/est le premier pas qui coute). It is a step 
that can seldom be retraced with safety or advantage. It is a 
step that decides the future fate of him who takes it, and hence 
it also decides his success or failure. We are speaking, of 
course, of those who are compelled to adopt some profession 
or avocation as a means of livelihood, and not of the gilded 
youth who are bred in the lap of affluence, and for whom stern 
necessity has no laws. True it is that even these favored chil- 
dren of fortune, if they take a right view of life and its duties, 
will fix upon a career, and sedulously follow it ; but in their 
case a mistake is of less importance, and can more easily be 
remedied. On the other hand, for the majority it is indis- 
pensable that they should labor by brain or hand, and, there- 



24 AIMS IN LIFE. 

fore, it is a vital matter for them to choose the species of labor 
best adapted to their talents and character. Horace advises 
an author, in selecting a subject for his muse, to be careful 
that it does not lie beyond his measure ; that he does not 
attempt to bend the bow of Ulysses, or to carry on his shoul- 
ders a burden fit only for an Ajax. It is not less essential to the 
success of the young adventurer, and, we may add, to his 
health of mind and tranquility of heart, that the calling which 
he chooses should be within the range of his capabilities. 
Otherwise his defeat is certain. The talent that will make a 
man a good lawyer runs to waste if diverted into an attempt to 
make him a good chemist. A " born musician " will make but 
a sorry dealer in stocks and shares. The high courage, the 
spirit of mastery, the genius for combinations, that would 
secure success in the career of arms, can be turned to small 
account behind a banker's counter. Patient, plodding indus- 
try, if wisely directed and applied, will earn no unworthy 
recompense ; but will egregiously and painfully fail if it under- 
take to do the work of genius. All men agree that it would 
be an unpardonable folly to yoke the coursers of the sun to a 
huckster's cart ; but it is not less absurd or criminal to enter a 
laborious roadster in a race against the victor of the Isthmian 
Games. A wise father will take care that his son is not " handi- 
capped " — if we may borrow the phraseology of Newmarket — too 
heavily in the struggle that lies before him. To avoid failure, 
we must undertake nothing to which we are notoriously un- 
equal, to which we feel ourselves to be unequal ; though, of 
course, we must not mistake the natural timidity of youth for 
actual incapacity. 

To do that which you know you can do, and which your 



UP TO OUR MEANS. 25 

heart wishes you to do, that is the secret of success. Sii 
Walter Raleigh wrote : — 

"Fain would I climb, but that I fear to fall ; " 

and elicited his Queen's prompt and unanswerable retort : — 

"If thy heart fail thee, do not climb at all." 

In determining on your future profession, you must not allow 
your judgment to be overborne by irrational fears. You must 
not be deterred from climbing by anything else than a mature 
conviction that if you rose beyond a certain height you would 
be certain to lose your footing. Timidity, however, is not the 
usual weakness of young men. Youth is generally bold, be- 
cause it does not see consequences ; and Phaetons are much 
commoner character than Dsedaluses. To know the exact 
limit of our powers is a piece of knowledge which we gain too 
frequently only after bitter experience. 
Listen to Robert Browning : — 

" The common problem yours, mine, every one's t 
Is not to fancy what were fair in life, 
Provided it could be, but finding first 
What may be then find how to make it fair, 
Up to our means — a veiy different thing .' " 

Hazlitt says that if a youth who shows no aptitude for lan- 
guages dances well, we should abandon all thought of making 
him a scholar, and hand him over to the dancing-master. 
This is an exaggerated way of stating a sound principle. How 
much precious effort is constantly wasted in the vain attempt 
to convert into musicians young ladies who have no feeling for 
" the concord of sweet sounds ! " How many admirable 
mechanics have been spoiled by the efforts of ambitious parents 
to educate them into physicians, or clergymen, or lawyers ! A 



26 AIMS IN LIFE. 

lad whose earliest promise of quickness is given by the instinc- 
tive dexterity with which he handles the implements of his lit- 
tle box of tools, is despatched to college, where he makes a 
sorry figure at his classes, with difficulty drags through an ex- 
amination, plods wearily and apathetically until he gets a certi- 
ficate or a degree, and then enters active life with the doom of 
failure upon him — a lawyer without briefs, a doctor without 
patients, or a minister without hearers. When the ambition is 
less, the failure is often as great. A parent apprentices to some 
uncongenial trade a boy whom nature has obviously designed 
for a great lawyer : the possible Smeaton or Stephenson is 
compelled to measure out yards of broadcloth. The celebrated 
leader of free lances, Sir John Hawkwood, who fought so 
gallantly at Poitiers, was apprenticed in early life to a London 
tailor. His after career proved that the shears could never 
have been his proper weapon ! Another genius nearly spoiled 
as a tailor was Jackson the painter. There was once a boy in 
the Isle of Wight whose whole soul was absorbed with the 
sights and sounds of the sea, whose mind was filled with 
dreams of its romance and adventure. His parents, however, 
insisted that he should be a tailor, and apprenticed him to a 
worthy tradesman in the village of Niton. One day, however, 
it was reported in the workshop that a squadron of men-of-war 
was off the island. The lad threw aside his needle, leaped from 
the shopboard, and mingled with the crowd that had assem- 
bled to gaze upon the stately spectacle. His old sympathies 
kindled immediately into fresh life ; he jumped into a boat, 
rowed off to the admiral's ship, offered himself as a volunteer, 
and was accepted. That boy was afterwards Admiral Hobson, 
who broke the boom of Vigo. 



CHOICE OF VOCATION. 2J 

Has not English art had good reason to be thankful that Sir 
Joshua Reynolds' father did not succeed in conquering his in- 
born love of drawing and making him a physician ? What ex- 
quisite portraits we should have lost ! what delightful faces 
of fair women, happy children, and illustrious men ! what ex- 
quisite examples of coloring and expression ! how many 
" things of beauty " and suggestions of refinement and grace ! 
And, again, should we not have had occasion for regret if Wil- 
liam Blake, the most mystical of poet-painters, had buried 
his genius in the hosier's shop to which his father at first 
apprenticed him ? Hogarth's father had so little perception of 
the faculties and tasts of his son that he placed him under a 
silversmith. Had not his genius worked out its own career 
there would have been no " Rake's Progress," no " Marriage a 
la Mode," no " Idle Apprentice " — none, in fact, of those 
singularly powerful pictorial moralities by which Hogarth 
founded a " school " of his own. 

The errors committed in the choice of a vocation are some- 
times amusing, or would be so if we could forget how serious 
might have been their consequences. The parents of Claude 
Lorraine, who divides with our own Turner the supremacy in 
landscape-painting, would have made him a pastry-cook ! His 
brother was a little keener of insight, for he took him from the 
pastry-cook's into his own shop, a wood-carver's ; and in this 
kind of work there was at least more room for the development 
of his artistic faculty. Turner was intended by his father for 
the respectable but inglorious trade of a barber. One day, 
however, a design of a coat-of-arms which the boy had 
scratched on a silver salver attracted the attention of a customer 
whom his father was shaving, and he was so struck by its pro- 



28 AIMS IN LIFE. 

mise, that he strongly recommended the latter not to interfere 
with his son's evident bias. The lover of art almost shudders 
at the thought of what the world would have lost had Claude 
continued a pastrycook, and Turner shaved the bristling chins 
of his father's patrons ! 

The father of Benvenuto Cellini was possessed with the de- 
sire of making him a flute-player, but the youth had a better 
idea of the bent and quality of his powers, and sedulously cul- 
tivated his love of art. Nicolas Poussin might have spent life 
obscurely as a village schoolmaster, had not a country painter, 
pleased with his juvenile efforts, advised his parents to give his 
abilities free scope. Sir Francis Chantrey, the distinguished 
sculptor, losing his father when he was still in his early boy- 
hood, was forced to drive an ass laden with his mother's milk- 
cans into the town of Sheffield to supply the customers with 
milk. His mother married a second time, and Chantrey not 
agreeing with his step-father, was placed in a grocer's shop in 
Sheffield. He soon grew weary of small dealings in tea, sugar, 
and the like ; and having conceived the idea of becoming a 
carver, implored his friends to release him from his engagement 
to the grocer. This was done, and he was bound apprentice to 
a carver and gilder for seven years. His new master was not 
only a carver in wood, but a dealer in prints and models, which 
Chantrey set to work in his spare hours to copy with unfailing 
perseverance. His success was signal ; and growing conscious 
of his capacity for better things, he bought his discharge from 
his master, and made his way to London. Here, while patient- 
ly studying the arts of painting and modelling, he supported 
himself by working as a carver. His studio in London was a 
room over a stable, and his first great achievement was a colos- 



LIKING NOT TALENT. 2$ 

sal head of Satan, which, later in life, when he had won 
renown, he pointed out to a friend. "That head," he re- 
marked, "was the first that I did after I came to London. I 
worked at it in a garret with a paper cap on my head ; and as I 
could then afford only one candle, I stuck that one in my cap 
that it might move along with me, and give me light whichever 
way I turned." Flaxman, having seen the head, recommended 
Chantrey for the execution of the busts of four admirals in- 
tended for the Greenwich Naval Asylum. This commission 
led to others, and the sculptor's success in life was ensured. 

William Etty may also be put forward as an example of 
the right direction of natural endowments. His father was a 
gingerbread baker and miller at York, who died while his son 
was still a boy, Young Etty had already evinced a strong par- 
tiality for drawing ; walls, floors, tables, all were covered with 
his fanciful designs ; his nimble fingers using first a lump of 
chalk, and afterwards a charred stick. But his mother, igno- 
rant and unsympathetic, apprenticed the would-be artist to a 
printer. The genius within him, however, refused to be con- 
quered. All his scanty leisure was devoted to the practice of 
drawing : and as soon as a cruel apprenticeship was at an end, 
he announced his intention of entering on an artist's career. 
The result fully justified his self-confidence, and, instead of a 
tolerable printer, England gained a great painter. 

It is necessary, when dwelling on this subject, to guard the 
reader against a serious delusion. He must not mistake mere 
liking for real talent. He must not think, because he is fond 
of drawing caricatures or sketches, that therefore he can be- 
come an Etty, a Turner, or a Claude ; that because he can 
play a little on the violin, therefore he is destined to develop 



30 AIMS IN LIFE. 

into another Paganini. Books upon "Self-Help" and ''The 
Pursuit of Knowledge under Difficulties," valuable as they are 
in many respects, have sometimes erred by not impressing this 
consideration on the minds of their readers. A boy fired with 
enthusiasm by the narrative of what genius has accomplished 
in despite of the most formidable obstacles, and enchanted by 
glowing pictures of the fame and opulence that have rewarded 
its labors, thinks that an equally radiant path lies open before 
himself, and that he may disregard the counsels and neglect 
the wishes of his nearest and dearest friends. No doubt 
parents and guardians have often made mistakes ; but far more 
numerous have been the mistakes of young men whom an im- 
prudent ambition or a greed of gain has led into paths they 
were incompetent to tread successfully. As a rule, it is always 
best to accept and act upon the advice of our elders. The 
avocation may be uncongenial, and after a while it may appear 
plainly unsuitable. It will then be open to us to seize the first 
opportunity of choosing another career, if this can be done 
without injury. Instances there will always be, similar to those 
we have already set before the reader, of a strong and masterful 
talent asserting itself in the face of every discouragement, and 
seeking and finding its natural and legitimate outlet. But let 
us remember with humility that such talent is given to very 
few, and with gratitude that Heaven estimates our life-work 
not by its brilliancy but by its honesty. If we do our duty, it 
matters not whether we be the leaders in the fore-front, of the 
battle, or only the rank and file. In fixing upon a pursuit, let 
us therefore be guided by nobler thoughts than those of ambi- 
tion, emulation or envy. Let us bethink ourselves of the old 
saying that the greatest man is he who chooses right with the 



CLERKS. 3 1 

most unconquerable resolution ; who withstands the sorest 
temptations within and without ; who patiently bears the 
weightiest burdens , who is calmest in the storm, and most 
fearless under frown and menace ; whose faith in truth, in 
virtue, in God, is must unfaltering. We cannot all be great 
sculptors, painters, musicians, men of letters, or successful mer- 
chants and wealthy manufacturers. The dishonor and the 
failure do not lie in the choice of a lowly trade, or even in the 
unfortunate selection of the wrong vocation ; they lie in our 
not doing the work before us with all our might. It is no dis- 
grace to be a shoemaker ; but it is a shame for a shoemaker to 
make bad shoes. 

The infatuation which induces parents to convert their sons 
into " clerks," in which capacity a wearisome poverty must 
always be their lot ; the delusion that sitting on a stool and 
adding up columns of figures is more honorable work than 
"pushing" a large business or carrying on a respectable 
trade, or than the higher forms of manual labor, must always 
remain inexplicable. We have met with a very vivid sketch of 
the ordinary life of a banker's clerk, and have every reason to 
believe in its accuracy. It does not represent the position as 
one of epicurean ease or divine independence. He is born, 
says the writer, to a high stool. He is taught vulgar fractions, 
patience and morals, in a suburban academy. At fourteen he 
shoulders the office quill or " Gillott's Commercial." He 
copies letters from morning till night, receiving no salary ; but 
he is to be remembered at Christmas. He is out in all 
weathers ; and at twenty is, or is required to be, thoroughly 
impervious to rain, snow and sunshine. At last he gets forty 
pounds per annum. He walks five miles to business and five 



32 AIMS IN LIFE. 

miles home. He never stirs out without his umbrella. He 
never exceeds twenty minutes for his dinner. He runs about 
all day with a big chain round his waist arid a gouty bill -book 
in his breast-pocket. He marries, and asks for an increase of 
salary. He is told ''the house can do without him." He re- 
views every day a large array of ledgers, and has to " write up " 
the customers' books before he leaves. He reaches home at 
nine o'clock, and falls asleep over the yesterday's paper, bor- 
rowed from the public-house. He reaches eighty pounds a 
year. He fancies his fortune is made ; but small boots and 
shoes and large school-bills stop him on the highroad to inde- 
pendence, and bring him no nearer to Leviathan Rothschild. 
He tries to get "evening employment," but his eyes fail him. 
He grows old, and learns that the firm never pensions. One 
morning his stool is found to be unoccupied, and a subscription 
is raised amongst his old companions, to pay the expenses of 
his funeral. 

We have been greatly struck by the truth of some homely 
remarks of an American writer. He is contesting the fallacy 
that "the three black graces," Law, Physic and Divinity, must 
be worshipped by the candidate for honor and respectability ; 
and he observes that ' ; it has spoiled many a good carpenter, 
done injustice to the sledge and the anvil, cheated the goose 
and the shears out of their rights, and committed fraud on the 
corn and the potato field." It is a melancholy fact that thou- 
sands have died of broken hearts in these professions who 
might have prospered at the plough or behind the counter ; 
that thousands, dispirited and hopeless, wistfully gaze on the 
farmer's healthful and independent calling, or pluck up cour- 
age to try their fortune in the Colonies or the United States in 



WISHES AND CAPABILITIES. 33 

the very trade they regarded as "not respectable" when enter- 
ing upon life ; while no inconsiderable numbers are reduced to 
necessities which humiliate them in their own estimation, ren- 
dering the most splendid worldly success a miserable compen- 
sation for the sense of degradation which accompanies it, and 
compelling them to derive from the miseries of their fellow- 
men the livelihood denied to their legitimate exertions Hence, 
in society, we are constantly meeting with men who, conscious 
of their unfitness for their vocation, and earning their living by 
their weakness instead of by their strength, are doomed to 
hopeless infirmity. "If you desire," says Sydney Smith, ''to 
represent the various parts in life by holes in a table of differ- 
ent shapes, — some circular, some triangular, some square, some 
oblong, — and the persons acting these parts by bits of wood of 
similar shapes, we shall generally find that the triangular per- 
son has got into the square hole, the oblong into the triangular, 
while the square person has squeezed himself into the round 
hole. M 

Is it true that " our wishes are presentiments of our capabili- 
ties ? " To our thinking, the maxim is dangerously delusive. 
Few of us set any rigid limit to our wishes. In those day- 
dreams which all but the sober and self-contented permit 
themselves — which, let us own, assist us in bearing the burden 
of our daily life — we are fond of giving full range to our 
desires, and frequently they aim both far and high. That a 
burning wish to become a great musician or a great painter is 
a proof of the possession of superior artistic genius we cannot 
admit. Young men fresh from the study of Tennyson are 
animated by a longing to gain the laureate wreath ; but how 
sadly their capabilities fall short of their ideal, still-born vol- 



34 AIMS IN LIFE. 

umes of unread rhymes proclaim. On the other hand, success 
in any particular pursuit depends undoubtedly in no small 
degree upon the spirit in which it is embraced. No man can 
expect to succeed if his heart be not in his work. It is true, 
unquestionably, that Mozart yearned to become a great musi- 
cian, and that but for this yearning and his passionate love of 
music, he would never have written " Don Giovanni " or " Le 
Nozze di Figaro." But this by no means implies that the 
"capacity" necessarily accompanies the ''wish." If the wish 
ripen into action, if it inspire a resolute determination to suc- 
ceed, if it encourage perseverance and energy and calm en- 
durance — then, indeed, it may work out its own fulfilment. 
Handel practising on his clavichord at midnight in a remote 
attic was a true foreshadowing of Handel the composer of " The 
Messiah ; " not because he wished to become a great musician, 
but because he gave himself up heart and soul to the study 
of the art he loved. So with the boy Bach, who copied intri- 
cate pieces of music by moonlight because he was denied a 
candle. Here was the resolution as well as the desire, and the 
patient labor as well as the natural genius. 

Whatever our aims in life, let us take care, at all events, that 
they are not unworthy of honest men. Do not let us set before 
ourselves a low mark. For instance, do not let us live and 
strive simply that we may "get on in the world," but to the 
intent that we may turn to the best account the talents with 
which God has endowed us, that we may do our duty as men 
and Christians, each within his proper sphere. We do not 
desire to discourage an honorable ambition ; every healthy soul 
seeks to rise ; but we pity those who suffer that ambition to 
overmaster them. To work for social advancement is nothing 



THE ENDS WE WORK FOR, 35 

wrong. A man may profitably work for money, since money 
is a means to an end ; but wealth and social position are, after 
all, the poorest imaginable ideals, and will hardly excite the 
aspirations of any generous nature. A contemporary essayist 
has some judicious observations on true ends of life ; on the 
objects for which it is fitting that men should live and toil ; on 
the definite purpose that should inspire their studious youth 
and animate the efforts of their maturer years. " Why do we 
consume our nights and days in study ? Why do we devote to 
toil and thought the bright hours of life's sweet spring ? " 
These are the questions we should put to our hearts in the 
privacy of the closet. For what end do we work ? What 
motive stimulates us? To what goal are our steps directed ? 
We repeat that it is a vulgar and degrading ambition which 
endeavors simply to secure " a respectable position " in life. 
We have no sympathy with the man who disregards the higher 
excellences of knowledge, and fails to appreciate the sublimity 
of patience, resolution, self-denial — " Soul-strengthening pa- 
tience and sublime control." It is "the struggle" which 
ennobles us, and not " the prize." He who thinks only of 
"the prize " will probably fail in " the struggle ; " for, wanting 
the inspiration of a lofty and exalting impulse, his heart may 
well faint before the obstacles which Fortune accumulates in 
the aspirant's path. Our admiration should and must be re- 
served for the heroic effort ; and when we recognize that such 
an effort has been or is being made, we should not wait for 
failure or success, but bestow our hearty sympathy on the 
courageous and honest worker. 

It has been said that " trifles light as air " often decide a 
young man's career ; and this may be true in the sense that a 



36 AIMS IN LIFE. 

spark may destroy a town if it alight upon a train of gunpow- 
der. Where the will and the sympathy, and the capacity 
already exist, a very slight impetus will be sufficient to guide 
them into the proper channel. But unless the career be in 
harmony with the natural aptitude, it will prove neither pros- 
perous nor tranquil. Dryden tells us that — 

"What the child admired, 
The youth endeavored, and the man acquired ; " 

and the poet's saying embodies a true philosophy. The labor 
that is to ripen into a golden harvest must spring from an 
innate sense and be carried out by a spontaneous will. " We 
are not surprised," remarks a popular writer, " to hear from a 
schoolfellow of the Chancellor Somers that he was a weakly 
boy, who always had a book in his hand, and never looked up 
at the play of his companions ; to learn from his affectionate 
biographer that Hammond at Eton sought opportunities of 
stealing away to say his prayers ; to read that Tournefort for- 
sook his college class that he might search for plants in the 
neighboring fields ; or that Smeaton, in petticoats, was dis- 
covered on the top of his father's barn in the act of fixing the 
model of a windmill which he had constructed. These early 
traits of character are such as we expect to find in the culti- 
vated lawyer who turned the eyes of his age upon Milton ; in 
the Christian whose life was one varied strain of devout praise ; 
in the naturalist who enriched science by his discoveries ; and 
in the engineer who built the Eddystone lighthouse." In each 
of these cases we see that the calling, however seemingly deter- 
mined by accidental and external causes, was exactly that 
which would have been the result of deliberate choice. Nelson 
became a great seaman, not because when a boy he played 



" CHILDHOOD SHOWS THE MAN." tf 

with a miniature ship upon a village pond, but because he had 
a natural disposition towards "a life on the ocean wave." In 
his boyhood Burns eagerly drank in the stories of witches and 
hobgoblins with which the old cronies of his father's fireside 
regaled him. But these did not make him a poet ; they sim- 
ply fed and fostered the poetic faculty which slumbered in his 
breast. George Law, the farmer's boy, chanced upon an old 
volume containing the history of a farmer's son who went out 
into the world to seek his fortune, and " after long years " 
returned home laden with wealth. But it was not this narra- 
tive which made Law a great steamship owner and merchant 
prince, however it may have operated as an incentive to his 
exertions. It was the firm, manly strain of his character, com- 
bined with the energy of a quick and lucid intellect. 

In choosing a pursuit in life, it is necessary, then, that we 
should consult what we may call our " natural instinct," and 
that we should also endeavor to ascertain the exact limit of 
our powers. But we are liable to be influenced — and it is well 
that we should be influenced — by certain external causes or 
circumstances ; such as our home-training and the example of 
our friends. These so mould and fashion the character that 
they cannot be otherwise than important factors in our calcu- 
lations. Sometimes they will educe or foster the natural in- 
stinct ; sometimes, perhaps, they will overrule and depress it. 
However this may be, their power cannot be denied. " The 
childhood shows the man," says Milton, " as morning shows 
the day." And therefore it is of vital importance that in 
childhood we should be surrounded by everything that can 
assist in elevating, purifying, strengthening — everything that 
will cherish our good impulses and master our inclinations to 



38 AIMS IN LIFE. 

evil — everything that will cultivate all that is true and honest, 
simple and generous in our nature. 

The most potent influence which humanity acknowledges is 
that of women, and the most potent influence in childhood is 
the mother's. We are, to a great extent, what our mothers 
make us. The lessons we learn from their dear lips are the les- 
sons which abide by us to the grave. Therefore might George 
Herbert justly say, " that one good mother was worth a hun- 
dred schoolmasters." We cannot have a St. Augustine without 
a Monica. Cromwell, Pitt, George Washington, Napoleon, 
Walter Scott, how much did they not owe to their mothers ! In 
each case the maternal impression was all in all. The fruit 
grew out of seed sown by the mother's hand. " I should have 
been an atheist," writes John Randolph, the American states- 
man, " if it had not been for one recollection, and that was the 
memory of the time when my departed mother used to take my 
little hand in hers, and cause me on my knees to say, ' Our 
Father who art in heaven ! ' " Mr. Foster describes the mother 
of Oliver Cromwell as ' k a woman possessed of the glorious 
faculty of self-help when other assistance failed her ; ready for 
the demands of fortune in its extremest adverse turn ; of spirit 
and energy equal to her mildness and patience ; who, with the 
labor of her own hands, gave dowries to five daughters suffi- 
cient to marry them into families as honorable but more 
wealthy than their own ; whose single pride was honesty, and 
whose passion was love ; who preserved in the gorgeous palace 
at Whitehall the simple tastes that distinguished her in the old 
brewery at Huntingdon ; and whose only care, amidst all her 
splendor, was for the safety of her own son in his dangerous 
eminence." What wonder that the son of such a mother be- 



MOTHERS' INFLUENCE. 39 

came a great English worthy ! A life nurtured under such high 
influences could hardly be other than heroic. 

It was to the fostering care and wise guidance of his mother 
that Ary Scheffer, the German artist, owed the development of 
his intellect. Who can forget the lessons of admirable counsel 
she addressed to him when he was pursuing his studies at Paris ? 
" Work diligently ; be, above all, modest and humble ; and 
when you find yourself excelling others, then compare what you 
have done with Nature itself, or with the ' ideal ' of your own 
mind, and you will be secured, by the contrast which will be 
apparent, against the effects of pride and presumption." The 
mother of the great Napoleon was a woman of remarkable ener- 
gy of mind and force of character. The late Lord Lytton 
ascribed his literary successes to the early impulse given to his 
talents by the cultivated taste of his accomplished mother. 
From his mother the poet Burns derived much of his fervor of 
imagination. Canning, the brilliant wit and successful states- 
man, inherited his intellectual qualifications from his mother. 
The father's influence must not be wholly set aside ; and if Wil- 
liam Pitt was largely indebted to the energy and vigor of his 
mother, he also owed not a little to the example and lessons of 
his father, the great Earl of Chatham. The Romillys, the 
Wilberforces, Sir Robert Peel, Matthew Arnold, are all illustra- 
tions of the inheritance of ability and character on the father's 
side ; but as the mother is nearer to the child than the father, 
as her love is deeper and more unselfish, so is her influence 
greater and more enduring. A man's career in life is more 
frequently fixed by the mother's impulse than by the father's ; 
and it is to be observed that the mother generally shows a much 
subtler sympathy with the " natural instinct " of her children, 



40 AIMS IN LIFE. 

more correctly estimates their capabilities and understands 
their tastes, than the father. This truth was keenly felt and 
eloquently expressed by Michelet. " I lost my mother thirty 
years ago, when I was still a child," he writes ; " nevertheless, 
ever living in my memory, she follows me through each stage 
of life. She suffered with me in my poverty, and was' not per- 
mitted to share my brighter fortune. When young I frequent- 
ly caused her pain, and now I cannot console her. I know not 
even where her bones lie : I was then too poor to buy earth for 
her grave ! And yet I owe her a large debt of gratitude. I 
feel deeply that I am the son of woman. Every instant, in my 
ideas and language, not to speak of my features and gestures, I 
find again my mother in myself. It is my mother's blood which 
gives me the sympathy I cherish for ages past, and the tender 
remembrance of all those who are now no more." It was in a 
like spirit that Benjamin West said, " A kiss from my mother 
made me a painter ; " and Curran, the Irish orator, " The only 
inheritance I could boast of from my father was the very scanty 
one of an unattractive face and person, like his own ; and if the 
world has ever attributed to me something more valuable than 
face or person, or than earthly wealth, it was that another and a 
dearer parent gave her child a portion from the treasure of her 
mind." So, too, Fowell Buxton wrote to his mother : " I con- 
stantly feel, especially in action and exertion for others, the 
effects of principles early implanted by you in my mind." Pope 
was never loth to acknowledge the beauty of the example set 
before him by his mother. It was Goethe's mother who dis- 
cerned and encouraged his literary tastes when his father was 
bent on his following the law. In the case of Macaulay, the 
paternal and maternal influences seem to have been happily 



COMPANIONSHIP. 4 1 

combined. " Nothing," says his biographer, " could be more 
judicious than the treatment that Mr. and Mrs. Macaulay 
adopted towards their boy, distinguished even in his childhood 
by his extraordinary mental powers. They never handed his 
productions about, or encouraged him to parade his powers of 
conversation or memory. They abstained from any word or act 
which might foster in him a perception of his own genius, with 
as much care as a wise millionaire expends on keeping his son 
ignorant of the fact that he is destined to be richer than his 
comrades. * * One effect of this early discipline showed itself 
in his freedom from vanity and susceptibility — those qualities 
which, coupled together in our modern psychological dialect 
under the head of 'self-consciousness,' are supposed to be the 
besetting defects of the literary character." Finally, the ac- 
complished lawyer, Lord Langdale, in his consciousness of the 
value of his mother's teaching, exclaimed, " Were the world 
put into one scale, and my mother into the other, the world 
would kick the beam." 

Our aims in life, though they may be largely controlled by 
the influences of home, will also be not a little swayed by the 
influences of companionship. Show us a man's friends, and 
you show us the man himself.* We need ho other character 
of the chivalrous Lord Brooke than the epitaph he caused to 
be inscribed upon his tomb — " Here lies the friend of Sir 
Philip Sydney ; " for we know what manner of man Sir Philip 
Sydney's friend would necessarily be. In the well-known song 
of the Persian poet Sadi, the poet asks a clod of clay how it 
has come to smell so fragrantly. " The sweetness is not in 
myself," replies the clay, "but I have been lying in contact 

* Sainte Beuve says, "Vis moi qui tu admires, et je dirai qui tu es." 



4 2 AIMS IN LIFE. 

with the rose." Those higher qualities in which our character 
may naturally be deficient we must learn, therefore, to supply 
by cultivating worthy friendships ; and in this way we shall be 
fitted to form a loftier and purer ideal of life. It is curious, in 
studying Byron's works, to note how largely his genius was 
colored by the influence of his associates. Thus, he never 
wrote with so much sensibility, such tenderness, and so generous 
a sympathy with nature, as when he was in constant com- 
munication with Shelley. Who shall determine what Tennyson 
may not have owed to his friendship with Arthur Henry Hal- 
lam ? The friends of John Sterling were accustomed to say of 
him that none come into contact with his noble mind and 
heart without being in some manner ennobled, without being 
lifted up into a higher region of aim and object. It was the 
genius of Sir Joshua Reynolds that kindled the ambition of 
Northcote. Gomez became a painter by watching Murillo ; 
Handel a musician by listening to Hadyn. 

"If thou wouldst get a friend," says an old writer, "prove 
him first, and be not hasty to credit him, for some man is a 
friend for his own occasion, and will not abide in the day of 
thy trouble. Separate thyself from thine enemies, and take 
heed to thy friends. A faithful friend is a strong defense, and 
he that hath found such a one hath found a treasure. A faith- 
ful friend is the medicine of life." These cautions are well 
worth bearing in mind, for your choice of a career in life, and 
your successful following of it, will depend, in a greater degree 
than you imagine, on the impulse you receive from your friends 
— an impulse sufficiently powerful at times to counteract the 
wise lessons and sacred example of the home. Choose worthy 
friends, and your life will be worthy. Let your exemplars be 



THE IMPORTANCE OF FRIENDS. 43 

such that to follow them will be an honor. Or, as George 
Herbert says, " Keep good company, and you shall be of the 
number." And George Herbert's mother spoke similar words 
of wisdom : " As our bodies take in nourishment suitable to 
the meat on which we feed, so do our souls as insensibly take 
in virtue or vice by the example or conversation of good or 
bad company." Charles James Fox was unfortunate in his 
home training, but its defects were largely remedied through 
his friendship with Edmund Burke. He declared publicly that 
if he were to put all the political information which he had 
learned from books, all of which he had gained from science, 
and all which any knowledge of the world and its affairs had 
tought him, into one scale, and the improvement which he had 
derived from Burke's instruction and conversation were placed 
in the other, he should be at a loss to decide to which to give 
the preference. What would Cicero have been without Atti- 
cus, or Zenophon without Socrates ? Or, to borrow an illus- 
tration from English history, was not Cromwell the better for 
his friendship with Hampden ? Did not Canning acknowledge 
the value of his intimacy with William Pitt ? 

A remarkable instance of the extent to which a man's life 
may be shaped and moulded by the teaching or conduct of a 
friend is furnished by the biography of Paley, the moralist and 
theologian. When a student at Christ's College, Cambridge, 
he was equally well known for his clumsiness and his clever- 
ness, and his fellow-students made him at once their favorite 
and their butt. Possessed of a strong, clear intellect, he wasted 
his time on unprofitable pleasures and pursuits, so that at the 
end of two years his progress was very trivial. One morning a 
friend came to his bedside before the idler had risen, and ad- 



44 AIMS IN LIFE. 

dressed him in grave and earnest tones : " Paley," he said, t% I 
have not been able to sleep for thinking about you. I have 
been thinking what a fool you are ! / have the means of dissi- 
pation, and can afford to be idle ; you are poor, and cannot 
afford it. / could do nothing, probably, even were I to try ; 
you are capable of doing anything. I have lain awake all night 
thinking about your folly, and I have now come solemnly to 
warn you. Indeed, if you persist in your indolence, and go on 
in this way, I must renounce your society altogether." This 
emphatic warning had such an effect upon Paley that he aban- 
doned his idle courses, resolved upon a new plan of life, and 
carried it out with diligence and energy. His after career of 
success, well deserved, was due to a friend's candor. 

It has been remarked by Emerson, the American essayist, 
that " the pictures which fill the imagination in reading the 
actions of Pericles, Xenophon, Columbus, Bayard, Sidney, 
Hampden, teach us how needlessly mean our life is, that we, by 
the depth of our living, should deck it with more than regal or 
national splendor, and act upon principles that should interest 
man and nature in the length of our days." In other words, if 
our aims in life are to be high, we must choose high examples, 
and carefully select our friends, in order to ensure that they 
shall subject us to no degrading or unhealthy influences. The 
example of a good and great man is like the lighthouse ; it not 
only warns, but directs ; not only indicates the rock, but guides 
into port. No sermon can be so eloquent as an heroic life. It 
teaches us how poor and commonplace would be our own if it 
were never elevated by worthy deeds, never illuminated by 
generous thoughts. O reader ! take care that your friends be 
able to raise you up, not pull you down. Take care that they 



"IN MEMORIAMr 45 

are able to strengthen you in good purposes, and encourage 
you to lofty deeds. " It is astonishing," says the late Dr. Moz- 
ley, " how much good goodness makes. Nothing that is good 
is alone, nor anything bad ; it makes others good or others bad, 
and these others, and so on ; like a stone thrown into a pond, 
which makes circles that make wider ones, and these others, till 
the last reaches the shore." A bad friend will make you your- 
self no helpful friend to others. The electric spark of charac- 
ter shoots all along the chain from link to link. 

Tennyson, in his "In Memoriam," has sketched with equal 
truth and beauty the extent of the power for good, of the ele- 
vating and brightening inspiration, of a worthy friend. Apos- 
trophising the lamented Arthur Henry Hallam, he says : — 

" Thy converse drew us with delight, 
The men of rathe and riper years : 
The feeble soul, a haunt of fears, 
Forgot his weakness in thy sight. 

" O'er thee the loyal hearted hung, 

The proud was half disarmed of pride, 
Nor cared the serpent at thy side 
To flicker with his double tongue. 

" The stern were mild when thou wert by, 
The flippant put himself to school 
And heard thee, and the brazen fool 
Was softened, and he knew not why. 

" While I, thy nearest, sat apart, 

And felt thy triumph was as mine; 
And loved them more that they were thine, 
The graceful tact, the Christian art. 

" Nor mine the sweetness or the skill, 
But mine the love that will not tire, 
And, born of love, the vague desire 
That spurs an imitative will.'* 

It is not difficult to discover the " path in life " which we can 
follow with the greatest success. The " natural instinct " re- 



46 AIMS IN LIFE. 

veals itself in many ways, and the tastes of the boy foreshadow 
the occupations of the man. Ferguson's clock carved out of 
wood and supplied with the rudest mechanism ; the boy Davy's 
laboratory in his garret at Penzance ; Faraday's tiny electric 
machine, made with a common bottle ; Claude Lorraine's pic- 
tures in flour and charcoal on the walls of the baker's shops ; 
Canova's modelling of small images in clay ; Chantrey's carving 
of his schoolmaster's head in a bit of pine wood, — all were in- 
dications, clear and strong, of the future man. Not only was 
the sympathy present, but the talent ; not only the inclination, 
but the will. And so when Charlotte Bronte in her childhood 
invented romances and constructed plots, the signs of the 
future novelist's great genius might easily have been detected 
by an observant eye. All honor to the Scotch dominie whose 
sagacity recognized the fact that David Wilkie " was much 
fonder of drawing than of reading, and could paint much bet- 
ter than he could write ! " Is it not a good thing for the world 
that it possesses u The Rent Day " and " The Village Fiddlers "? 
Yet these it might never have had had a wrong direction been 
given in his early years to Wilkie's talents. It is often, per- 
haps generally, the fault of others that the round man is thrust 
into the square hole, and in this uncongenial position compelled 
to fret through the weary years. What a burden for the indi- 
vidual, what a misfortune for society, when lives are thus piti- 
fully wasted ! We have been reminded by an American essay- 
ist that if Mendelssohn's father had discouraged instead of 
wisely fostering that rare musical genius which, when its 
possessor was only eight years old, detected in a concerto of 
Bach's six of those "dread offences against the grammar of 
music," consecutive fifths, we should never have had that per- 



CHOICE OF A CAREER. 47 

feet tone-picture of Shakespeare's exquisite fancy, the Mid- 
summer Night's Dream ! " No , nor the grand music of the 
Elijah," nor the noble and various strains of the " Lieder ohne 
Worte," nor the delicate interpretation of the Greek dramatist's 
"Antigone." How much poorer would the world have been 
had Mendelssohn's intellectual powers been misdirected into a 
wrong channel ! 

It is related of the American President, John Adams, that 
when he was a boy, his father, a shoemaker, essayed to teach 
him the craft honored of St. Crispin. One day some " uppers " 
were placed in his hands, with instructions to cut them out by a 
pattern, with a triangular hole in it (the hole having been 
utilized for suspending the pattern to a nail) which was given 
to him. The boy worked assiduously at the unwelcome task ; 
but behold, when he had completed it, it was found that he had 
imitated the pattern with irritating exactness, hole and all. His 
father sagely concluded that the boy would never be other 
than a bad shoemaker ; history shows, however, that he made a 
prudent and successful statesman. It is true that parents some- 
times err on the side of partiality, and over-estimate the abili- 
ties of their sons, and that youth itself, as we have hinted, is 
prone to this flattering exaggeration. It is true — for moralists 
are never weary of telling us so — that Liston, who convulsed 
audiences by the richness of his drollery, was convinced that 
he was born to play " Macbeth ; " that David, the artist of Re- 
volutionary France, could never be persuaded that his proper 
profession was not the diplomatic. These delusions must be 
accepted as warnings to exercise the greatest discretion in judg- 
ing of the character, temperament, and faculties of the young 
before we seek to determine them in the selection of a career. 



48 AIMS IN LIFE. 

And this discretion is all the more needful because it is certain 
that each of us has his suitable groove, if he can but find it. 
Lamentable wrecks of goodly barks would be avoided if they 
were properly trimmed at the outset, and steered with a trust- 
worthy compass. It is the duty of the parent, the guardian, 
the instructor, to study carefully the proclivities of those com- 
mitted to their charge, to search for the latent force, and watch 
and wait for the indications of nature. The elder Caxton, 
while superintending his son's education, recalls how he has 
read in a certain Greek writer of the foolish experimentalist 
who, to save his bees a laborious flight to fragrant Hymettus, 
cut their wings, and then set before them the finest flowers and 
fullest of nectared sweets he could collect. Alas ! he soon dis- 
covered to his cost that the bees made no honey ! Applying 
the illustration, Caxton determines that his young Pisistratus 
shall be restricted to no narrow sphere limited by parental 
anxiety, but allowed to range over fresh woods and pastures 
new for his own materials. 

It is generally found that in men of great genius the " natural 
instinct" is so strong as to defy all efforts to repress it. In 
their early years its spell is upon them, invincible and irresisti- 
ble as that of the enchanter in the " Orlando Furioso." Their 
thoughts and dreams are occupied by its influence, which, like 
the ghost of Miltiades in the case of the Athenian statesman, or 
the spirit of Hamlet's father, will not let them rest. The im- 
pulse cannot be denied. Shakespeare struggles with his 
thoughts until he composes " Hamlet ; " Beethoven is driven 
onward until he creates the " SinfoniaEroica." Genius chooses 
its channel of expression with no desire for wealth, or fame, or 
happiness ; but because it cannot do otherwise, just as the 



44 A ROLLING STONE GATHERS NO MOSS." 49 

nightingale sings because its heart is in its music. The poet and 
the painter and the musician love their art, and give up their 
souls to it with unquestioning surrender. Aims in life ! — Genius 
has only one ; to find an outlet in the way best adapted for it. 
It may be enslaved for a while — " cribbed, cabined, and con- 
fined " by unpropitious circumstances ; but sooner or later it 
will burst its bonds, and ply its wings in the free, open air. The 
time comes at last when it will no longer consent " to harrow 
the valleys, or be bound with the band in the furrow ; " when 
" it laughs at the multitude of the city, and regards not the cry- 
ing of driver ; " when, refusing any longer to pour water into 
sieves or weave ropes out of sand, it designs a " Madonna,'* 
carves an "Apollo," or writes a " Divina Commedia." How 
was it that Hogarth and Correggio, to name two masters of very 
opposite genius, succeeded in attaining that high standard ol 
excellence which the world now recognizes admiringly ? What 
was their inspiration ? Not a mother's approving smile, nor a 
father's frown ; not the help of teachers, nor the world's prema- 
ture applause ; but the vivid, tingling delight with which the 
one seized upon a grotesque incident or character, the rapt 
soul shining in the eyes of the other as he raised a saint to, or 
drew an angel from, the skies. 

To these remarks upon the conditions which the young should 
bear in mind when debating their " aims in life," we may add 
a couple of warnings. First, we would say, having once 
selected your profession or calling, do not be in a hurry to 
change it. " A rolling stone gathers no moss." Because it is a 
first distasteful, do not hurriedly conclude that you are in the 
wrong place : that your "genius " (heaven save the mark !) has 
not discovered its appropriate sphere , that you are not rightly 



50 AIMS IN LIFE. 

appreciated, but that in some other pursuit you would assured- 
ly rise to fame and fortune. Be humble and be patient. We 
cannot all of us mount Pegasus, and the modest hackney is at 
best a safer steed. Our young men seem to share in the gen- 
eral unrest of the age, and shift uneasily from one pursuit to 
another, with the result of succeeding in none. They would do 
well to imitate Sydney Smith, who, as a parish priest at Foston- 
le-Clay, in Yorkshire, felt that he was inappropriately situated, 
but cheerfully persevered in his resolve to do justice to his 
work. " I am determined," he said, " to like it, and reconcile 
myself to it, which is more manly than to feign myself about it, 
and to send up complains by the post of being thrown away 
and being desolate, and such like trash." 

Our second caution is, whatever your calling, do not despise 
it. If it be humble, elevate it by the honesty and excellence with 
which you discharge its duties. As we have already hinted., 
there is no discredit in being a shoemaker, but there is in mak- 
ing a bad shoe. The scorn with which some young men speak 
of the work to which they have been called springs too often 
from a wretched vanity. Their great souls are humiliated by 
being required to labor like their neighbors. But if a man can- 
not be a Guido, he can at least learn to mix colors thoroughly ; 
and it is more praiseworthy to " engross a deed " with careful 
accuracy than to write bad verses. It is not the labor that 
dignifies the man, but the man who dignifies the labor. Of 
nothing is the world more contemptuous than of the silly 
affectation that is ashamed of its position in society or business. 
Of nothing is the world more tender than of the honest pride 
which seeks only to do its duty. It reserves its deepest rever- 
ence for such men as George Wilson, who could say, M The 



" THE PATH OF DUTY IS THE WA Y TO GLORY.' 



51 



word duty seems to me the biggest word in the world, and is 

uppermost in all my serious doings." It echoes and approves 

the poet saying, "The path of duty is the way to glory " • — 

** He that walks it, only thirsting 
For the right, and learns to deaden 
Love of self, before his journey closes, 
He shall find stubborn thistle bursting 
Into glossy purples, which out-redden 
All voluptuous garden-roses,'* 



CHAPTER III. 

A STEADY PURPOSE. 

" Be not simply good ; be good for something." — Thoreau. 

" Rich are the diligent, who can command 

Time, nature's stock, and, could his hour-glass fall, 
Would, as for seed of stars, stoop for the sand, 
And, by incessant labor, gather all." 

— Sir William Davenant. 

" We are but farmers of ourselves ; yet may, 
If we can stock ourselves, and thrive, uplay 
Much, much good treasure for the great rent-day." 

— Dr. Donne. 

"We should guard against a talent which we cannot hope to practise in 
perfection. Improve it as we may, we shall always, in the end, when the 
merit of the matter has become apparent to us, painfully lament the loss of 
time and strength devoted to such botchery." — Goethe. 

" Do what thou dost as if the earth were heaven, 
And that thy last day were the judgment day ; 
When all's done, nothing's done." 

— Charles Kings ley. 

" When I take the humor of a thing once, I am like your tailor's needle, 
I go through." — Ben Jonson. 




CHAPTER III. 



A STEADY PURPOSE. 



THE severest censure that can be passed upon a man is 
that of the poet's : — " Everything by turns and nothing 
long." The words contain a sad revelation of wasted oppor- 
tunities, wasted powers, wasted life. They have always seemed 
to us to apply, with a painful degree of exactness, to the career 
of Lord Brougham. Few men have been more richly endowed 
by nature. Few men have exhibited a greater plasticity of in- 
tellect, a greater affluence of mental resources. He was a fine 
orator, a clear thinker, a ready writer. It is seldom that a 
man who sways immense audiences by the power of his 
eloquence attains also to a high position in the ranks of litera- 
ture. Yet this Brougham did ; while, as a lawyer, he gained 
the most splendid prize of his profession, the Lord Chancellor- 
ship of England, and, as a scientific investigator, merited and 
received the applause of scientific men. All this may seem to 
indicate success ; and, to a certain extent, Brougham was suc- 
cessful. Not the less, having been everything by turns and 
nothing long — having given up to many pursuits the powers 
which should have been reserved for one or two — he was, on 
the whole, a failure. Not only did he fail to make any perma- 



56 A STEADY PURPOSE. 

nent mark on the history or literature of his country, but 
he even outlived his own fame. He was almost forgotten be- 
fore he died. He frittered away his genius on too many ob- 
jects ; while every schoolboy knows, that to secure the greatest 
possible amount of solar energy, you must concentrate the rays 
upon a single focus. Miss Martineau has happily said, that 
when we think of Lord Brougham, the often-quoted apologue 
of the Duchess of Orleans respecting her son, the Regent, in- 
voluntarily occurs to the mind. He was one on whom, in his 
cradle, beneficent fairies had lavished every intellectual gift, 
but a single malignant spirit rendered them all unavailing by 
adding the fatal ingredient of waywardness. And she relates 
an anecdote which bears with it a mournful and significant ap- 
plication. Lord Brougham, she says, was at his chateau at 
Cannes, when the daguerreotype process, the precursor of pho- 
tography, was introduced there ; and an accomplished neigh- 
bor proposed to take a view of the chateau, with a group of 
guests in the balcony. The artist explained the necessity of 
perfect immobility. He asked his Lordship and friends to keep 
still only for " five seconds ; " and his Lordship vehemently 
promised that he would not stir. Alas ! he moved too soon, 
and the consequence was, where Lord Brougham should have 
been, a blur ; so stands the daguerreotype view to this hour. 
" There is something," remarks Miss Martineau, " very typical 
in this. In the picture of our century, as taken from the life 
by history, this very man should have been a central figure ; 
but now, owing to his want of steadfastness, there will be for 
ever a blur where Brougham should have been." For want of 
concentration of aim, of steadiness of purpose, how many lives 
are nothing but blurs ! 



S TEA DFA ST A P PLICA TION. 5 7 

u See first that the design is wise and just ; 
That ascertained, pursue it resolutely. 
Do not for one repulse forego the purpose 
That you resolved to effect." 

Not for one repulse, no, and not for repeated repulses. Keep 
true to your object. Remember that " steadfast application to 
a fixed aim " is the law of a well-spent life and the secret of an 
honorable success. Said Giardini. when asked how long it 
would take to learn the violin, " Twelve hours a day for twen- 
ty years together." Ah me ! how many of us think to play our 
fiddles by inspiration ' Now Giardini became a great violinist 
because he practised twelve hours a day, and only on the violin. 
His motto was Strafford's — u Thorough : " and we know of no 
better motto for men in earnest. 

Sir Thomas Fowell Buxton, in a letter to his daughter, re- 
cords some interesting particulars of the elder Rothschild. 
" We dined yesterday at Ham House," he says, " to meet the 
Rothschilds, and very amusing it was. He told us his life and 
adventures. He was the third son of the banker at Frankfort. 
'There was not,' he said, 'room enough for us all in that city. 
I dealt in English goods One great trader came there, who 
had the market to himself : he was quite the great man, and 
did us a favor if he sold us goods. Somehow I offended him. 
and he refused to show me his patterns. This was on Tues- 
day. I said to my father, " I will go to England." I could 
speak nothing but German. On the Thursday I started. The 
nearer I got to England, the cheaper goods were. As soon as 
I got to Manchester, I laid out all my money, things were so 
cheap, and I made a good profit.' 

* ' I hope/ said , ' that your children are not too fond of 

money and business, to the exclusion of more important things. 
I am sure you would not wish that ? * 



58 A STEADY PURPOSE. 

" ' I am sure I would wish that,' said Rothschild ; ' I am sure 
I would wish that. I wish them to give mind, and soul, and 
heart, and body, and everything to business ; that is the way to 
be happy.' 'Stick to one business, young man,' said Rothschild, 
addressing Edward (Sir T. F. Buxton's son) ; ' stick to your 
brewery, and you may be the great brewer of London. But be 
a brewer, and a banker, and a merchant, and a manufacturer, 
and you will soon be in the Gazette' " 

The advice is sound, though given in a sordid spirit. It is 
not possible to insist too strongly upon the necessity of defini- 
tiveness of aim, steadiness of purpose, unity of object. To ex- 
cel in one pursuit is surely better than to fail in many. As 
much persistence is required in following up the vocation 
which we have chosen in life, as was shown by the eminent 
financial authority, Mr. Lawson, in the first stage of his career. 
The story is told by himself. One day, on visiting Lombard 
Street, for some trivial business, he, acting under a vague but 
potent influence, ventured boldly into the off.ce of one of the 
largest banking-houses in that celebrated locality. " I looked 
about me," he says, "but nobody appeared to take any notice. 
I saw young men standing behind long counters, weighing gold 
and silver in scales. I stood there for some time watching the 
tellers and inwardly admiring the magnificence of the money- 
changers. At last I said to one of them, ' Pray, sir, do you 
want a clerk ? ' He answered sharply, ' Who told you that we 
wanted a clerk ? * I replied, ' Nobody told me so, but having 
recently left school, I am desirous of getting some employment. 
I am living with my mother, who cannot afford to keep me idle 
at home, and what to do I know not.' 

" Whether the teller was struck with the novelty of the ap- 



MR. LAWSON. 59 

plication, or the reason I adduced for making it, I never could 
discover. Suffice it to say that, after waiting about ten minutes, 
I was requested to walk into the partner's room. 

" On my entering this sanctum sanctorum, I perceived three 
persons sitting at a table. One was a venerable and amiable- 
looking old gentlemen, the head of the firm ; the others were 
younger. One of the latter, the junior partner, addressed me, 
putting the question the teller had done ; and, nothing 
daunted, I gave the same answer, adding, ' I do not like to be 
beholden to my friends for my support if I can anyhow get my 
own living.' 

"'A very praiseworthy determination,' he said; 'and how 
old are you, my boy, and how long have you been from school ? 
Having satisfied him upon these points, he continued his 
queries, asking what sort of a hand I wrote, ' A very good one,* 
I replied » ' at least, so my master used to say ; ' and at the 
same time pulling out my school copy-book, which I had been 
thoughtful enough to put in my pocket, I displayed it before 
them. 'Ah,' he said, 'that is very good writing ; but can you 
get any one to be security for you ? ' I said at once, and with- 
out the least hesitation, ' Yes, sir.* This reply was made with- 
out my having at that time the remotest idea what the security 
meant, as applied in the sense in which he used it. I gave him 
the name of a gentleman, who, I said, would no doubt do what 
was required. I also gave him the name of the steward of 
Christ's Hospital. 

k * Inquiries were made of these gentlemen, which proving 
satisfactory, I received on the following Wednesday a visit from 
the gentleman at the banking-house whom I had accosted on 
my first entering, and who on this occasion said he was very 



60 A STEADY PURPOSE. 

happy to be the bearer of the intelligence that I had been 
appointed to a clerkship in the banking-house of Barclay. 
Tritton, Bevan & Co., and that I was to commence the duties 
of my office on the following morning. 'Your salary,' he 
added, ' will be seventy pounds per annum.' This was indeed 
a most agreeable and joyful piece of information, and such as 
I had no reason to expect. I accordingly made my appear- 
ance at the office on the following morning, which but a week 
before I had entered a wandering stranger." 

It must be admitted that Mr. Lawson by his directness of 
aim, his boldness and his energy, had deserved his good for- 
tune. The example, however, is one which can hardly be 
imitated with success. The moral of the story is its chief 
value : " Know your own mind, and adhere to it." Then, in- 
deed, you may not win a complete victory, for Circumstance 
is always a formidable adversary, but you will avoid absolute 
defeat. In great battles the issue rests with the general who 
seizes most clearly the best point of attack, and directs his 
efforts thither with the greatest tenacity. 

" A man," says Emerson, with equal truth and beauty, "is 
like a bit of Labrador spar, which has no lustre as you turn it 
in your hand until you come to a particular angle, then it 
shows deep and beautiful colors." That is the angle which 
the prudent soul, which has learned to know itself, is always 
anxious to expose to the light. It may be asserted as an in- 
disputable fact that every great man has become great, that 
every successful man has succeeded, in proportion as he has 
confined his powers to one particular channel. If we think 
of James Watt, it is as the inventor of the steam-engine ; of 
Richard Arkwright, it is as the inventor of the spinning-jenny. 



UNIVERSALITY. 6 1 

Jenner is identified with the introduction ot vaccination ; Sir 
Humphrey Davy's name we associate with the safety-lamp. 
Each is known by his own trade-mark. It is true that Leonardo 
da Vinci was poet and musician as well as painter ; but his 
sonnets are known only to the few, and it is " The Last 
Supper " that preserves his fame. By spreading our powers 
over a wide area we cannot do otherwise than weaken them ; 
we secure breadth, but we lose depth. Universality has been 
the ignis fatuus which has deluded to ruin many a promising 
mind. In attempting to gain a knowledge of half a hundred 
subjects, it has mastered none. A versatile man is usually a 
smatterer. Sir Joshua Reynolds has left on record the em- 
phatic aphorism that a painter ought to sew up his mouth ; he 
cannot both excel in his art and shine as a conversationalist. 
Charles Dickens said, " Whatever I have tried to do in my life, 
I have tried with all my heart to do well. What I have de- 
voted myself to, I have devoted myself to completely. Never 
to put one hand to anything on which I could not throw my 
whole self, and never to affect depreciation of my work, what- 
ever it was, I now find to have been golden rules." 

The examples which are sometimes given of successful ver- 
satility are found, on inquiry, to be deceptive. Take, for in- 
stance, that of the late Lord Lytton. It is said, and truly, 
that he attained eminence as a novelist, a dramatist, and, in a 
minor degree, as a poet. He wrote some admirable essays, 
and an historical work of considerable merit. Whether, if he 
had addressed himself wholly to fiction, he might not have 
done better, we will not now argue ; but at least it must be ob- 
served that his eminence was confined to a single department, 
that of literature. The faculties he cultivated so assidiously 



62 A STEADY PURPOSE. 

were the literary faculties. As a politician he accomplished 
nothing. To furnish a fair illustration of versatility he should 
have succeeded also as a scientific inquirer or an artist. In 
like manner, Michael Angelo was a great sculptor and a great 
painter ; but sculpture and painting are only two branches of 
art, and the same intellectual powers may enable a man to 
excel in both or either. It is said of Cicero that he was a 
master of logic, ethics, astronomy and natural philosophy ; and 
that he was also profoundly versed in music, geometry, and the 
fine arts. Science in Cicero's days was a very limited field, 
and could easily be covered by an active intellect ; but it re- 
mains true that to us the great Roman is known only as an 
orator and a philosopher, and that in no other capacities has he 
acquired an enduring renown. Still, we do not deny that a 
few remarkable men have distinguished themselves by the vast 
scope of their attainments. Bacon seems to have claimed 
supremacy over the whole domain of human knowledge. Sal- 
vator Rosa touched the lute with skill, and shot with dexterous 
ease the arrowy shafts of satire, while transferring to the canvas 
so much of the poetry of landscape. Dante, to whose power- 
ful imagination were open alike the gates of paradise, of purga- 
tory, and of hell, was steeped to the lips in all the learning of 
his age, while in the political drama of his time he played a 
conspicuous part. These exceptions, however, do but prove 
the rule ; for how many of us are there who can pretend to ap- 
proach within the circle illuminated by the higher genius ? 

We like the trumpet-note of Fowell Buxton's manly words : 
— " The longer I live the more I am certain that the great 
difference between men, between the feeble and the powerful, 
the great and the insignificant, is energy — invincible determina- 



CONCENTRA TION. 63 

Hon — a purpose once fixed, and then death or victory : That 
quality will do anything that can be done in this world ; and 
no talents, no circumstances, no opportunities, will make a 
two-legged creature a man without it." Observe that the 
purpose is to be fixed, the aim concentrated, and then the 
whole man brought to bear upon it. Desultoriness is the vice 
of the age ; nothing is thoroughly done, because everybody 
attempts to do everything. We see this evil rampant in our 
schools, the curriculum of which includes as many branches 
of study as would occupy an average lifetime in only a cursory 
survey, instead of being spread out before astonished children : 
Greek and Latin, French and German, multifarious " English," 
Ancient and Modern History, Physical Science, Mathematics, 
Astronomy, Botany, Drawing, etc., etc. The wonder is, how 
one poor head can carry such a burden of knowledge ! Or 
rather, such would be the wonder, if it were not obvious to 
every observer that the " scholar" gets no more than the 
merest inkling of all these languages and sciences. His time 
is divided among so many subjects that patient, exhaustive 
inquiry is impossible ; and the gold leaf is extended over so 
wide a space that it becomes almost too thin to hide the wire 
beneath. The race of students is dying out. The ambition 
of our young men is no longer to dive deeply, but to skim the 
widest possible surface. Scholarship will soon become a thing 
of the past, unless a reaction happily take place ; and, in the 
interest of true knowledge, a protest be raised against the 
present system of intellectual diffuseness. Concentration of 
aim is the one great want of the present time. We are repeat- 
ing in another form what we already urged ; but the repetition 
of an important truth may well be forgiven us. For even our 



64 A STEADY PURPOSE. 

newspapers foster the growing evil by presenting to their 
readers such a number and variety of themes. Anything 
like continuous matured thought is rendered impossible. The 
mind nutters from topic to topic and takes hold of none ; 
hence it lives in an atmosphere of dissipation which rapidly 
consumes its energies and exhausts its freshness. 

The successful man of business is always a striking illustra- 
tion of what is meant by steadiness of purpose. He, at all 
events, appreciates the force of the old adage, " Jack of all 
trades and master of none." He knows that his position was 
won, and can be maintained, only by " concentration of aim ;" 
by the gathering up of all his powers into one special channel. 
Merchant, or banker, or stockholder, engineer or shipbuilder, 
coalmaster or ironfounder, he is content with a single field for 
the employment of his resources. A glance at the career of 
William Astor, the American millionaire, may here be profit- 
able. It is said that if anything were left undone by this man 
of steady purpose and superabundant energy to extend and 
crown with success his trade in furs, it must have lain beyond 
the compass of mortal shrewdness. He made himself thor- 
oughly acquainted with the nature of the trade, " interviewing" 
the agents, and gaining a comprehensive knowledge of its 
methods and profits. His enterprising spirit carried him into 
projects which would have daunted most men. 

At the close of the War of Independence, England still held 
possession of Oswego, Detroit, Niagara, and other important 
posts. As these were the entrepots of the western and north- 
ern provinces, the fur trade languished after their detention and 
during their capture. The traders had been either driven away 
or drafted into the armies ; the trappers had shared the politi- 



ASTOR'S ENTERPRISE. 65 

cal enthusiasm of the time, and ranged themselves on one side 
or the other ; and the Indians obtained larger quantities of 
calico and " fire-water " in return for their mercenary rifles and 
tomahawks than they could have done had they employed them 
against only beavers and squirrels. After a protracted negotia- 
tion and vast diplomatic effort, these posts were ceded to the 
United States, and Canada was opened to the fur trade. Soon 
afterwards the English settlers withdrew from the west side of 
St. Clair, and the great fur trade of the West fell chiefly into 
hands of American merchants. 

It was clear to the sagacity of Astor that the posts thus made 
free would soon be frequented by Indians eager to dispose of 
the accumulated produce of several years' hunting, and that 
the time had come when he might hope to realize a large for- 
tune by developing his trade. He set to work, therefore, to 
establish agencies, over which he exercised a careful personal 
supervision, while still fixing his headquarters at New York. 
His adventure proved entirely successful ; and in a few years 
he derived large profits from this source. 

The British fur companies, however, had planted their block 
forts on almost every eligible site along the rivers of northern 
and north-western parts of the North American mainland ; and 
it seemed certain that, unless bold measures were adopted, they 
would speedily secure a monopoly of the entire fur trade. It 
was for this purpose Astor founded in 1803 the American Fur 
Company. The hardy adventurers whom he enlisted in his 
project boldly pushed their outposts far into the hitherto virgin 
prairie, and erected their rude log-huts and palisades on the 
banks of unexplored rivers. Tribes who had never seen the 
white man, who knew of him only by legend and tradition, or 



66 A STEADY PURPOSE. 

through the wonderful tales told round the bivouac -fire by some 
visitor from another tribe, now grew acquainted with him, and 
laid at his feet their wealth of beaver, otter, sable,and buffalo skins, 
in return for supplies of muskets, powder, and "fire-water." 

No sooner had the American Fur Company been fairly 
started, than Mr, Astor, still preserving his oneness of aim, cast 
his far-seeing eyes towards the region extending from the 
Rocky Mountains to the Ocean. He proposed to the Ameri- 
can Government the establishment of a line of small forts along 
the shores of the Pacific and on the Columbia River, in order 
to deprive the British of their facilities for organizing a trade 
west of the Rocky Mountains. The project found favor \ and 
in 1810 sixty men, under the command of a hardy and adven- 
turous leader, planted at the mouth of the river Columbia the 
first post, which, from the originator of the scheme, received 
the name of Astoria, and proved to be the germ of the future 
State of Oregon. Then began a series of operations on a scale 
far exceeding aught which had previously been attempted by 
individual enterprise. The whole story, which has been told 
by Washington Irving, is replete with the most romantic details. 
The scheme sprang from a bold and capacious mind ; and had 
it been faithfully carried out by Mr. Astor's associates, would, 
no doubt, have been crowned with success. But it was mis- 
managed, and it failed. During the war between English and 
the United States a British armed sloop captured Astoria, and 
the British' fur traders took possession of the rich field which 
Mr. Astor had begun to cultivate. Nothing, however, could 
discourage this man of fixed intent. He continued his opera- 
tions in other quarters with untiring energy, until he amassed a 
princely fortune. 



FARADAY THE CHEMIST. 6? 

The late Mr. Brassey insisted upon the course we are recom- 
mending with as much sincerity as ourselves. His biographer 
says of him that, in the execution of a contract, he was very 
careful to apportion the work according to the abilities and ex- 
perience of the workers. " He never liked to let the brick- 
work and the earth-work to one man. He would let the brick- 
work to a bricklayer, and the earth-work to a man specially 
acquainted with that branch. ' I have often,' says one of his 
employes, * heard him mention, as a principle of action, Each 
one to his own speciality.' " 

It was this wise concentration of purpose on a single object 
that made Faraday a great chemist. When an apprentice in a 
bookbinder's shop, he devoted his scanty leisure to the acqui- 
sition of the knowledge for which his soul thirsted. In the 
hours after work, he learned the beginnings of his philosophy 
from the books given to him to bind. There were two that 
helped him materially, the " Encyclopaedia Britannica," from 
which he gained his first notions of electricity, and Mrs. Mar- 
cet's " Conversations in Chemistry," which afforded him an 
introduction to that science of wonders. In time he obtained 
his master's permission to attend a series of scientific lectures 
at a Mr. Tatum's ; and afterwards, through the kindness of a 
gentleman who had noticed and admired his remarkable in- 
dustry and intelligence, he was present at the last four public 
lectures of Sir Humphrey Davy. " The eager student sat in 
the gallery, just over the clock, and took copious notes of the 
Professor's explanation of radiant matter, chlorine, simple 
inflammables and metals, while he watched the experiments 
that were performed. Afterwards he wrote the lectures fairly 
out in a quarto volume that is still preserved ; first, the theo- 



6S A STEADY PURPOSE. 

retical portions, then the experiments with drawings, and finally 
an index." Sending these notes to Sir Humphrey Davy, with 
a letter explaining his intense attachment to scientific research, 
he was offered the post of assistant in the laboratory of the 
Royal Institution of London. Gladly he accepted it, with its 
weekly wage of twenty-five shillings and the advantage of a 
room in the house. Thenceforward his career was assured ; 
but it must be remembered that the renown which gilded it 
was won by Faraday's unwavering pursuit of a single end. 

An amusing Scottish story may here be introduced by way 
of additional illustration. An elderly couple having acquired a 
competency in a small shop in Aberdeen, retired from business, 
leaving their only son as successor in the shop, with a stock 
free from every incumbrance. After a few years, however, 
John failed. Then said Mrs. A. to Mrs. K., " I wonder hoo 
your Johnnie did sae ill in the same shop you did sae weel 
in?" 

Mrs. K. replied, " Hoot, womin, it's nae wonder at a'." 

Mrs. A. — " And hoo, then, did it happen ? " 

Mrs. K. — " I'll tell ye hoo it happen'd. Ye maun ken, when 
Tarn an' me began to merchandeese, we took parritch nicht 
an' mornin, and kail tull our denner ; when the times grew 
better we took tea tull our breakfast. Ah, weel ! they aye 
mendit, and sometimes we coft a lam's leg for a Sunday's 
denner ; an' afore we gae up, we sometimes coft a chuckie — 
we were doin' sae weel. Noo, ye maun ken, when Johnnie 
began to merchandeese, he began at the chuckie." Moral : In 
striving to carry out the purpose which you have set before 
yourself, do not begin at the wrong end. Imitate Faraday, 
and, at first, be content with the day of little things. 



ONE OBJECT— NOT ONE IDEA. 69 

No small amount of ridicule has been expended upon the 
man of one idea. But we do not desire our readers to be men 
of one idea because we recommend them to be men of one 
aim. It is certain that no man has ever attained to affluence 
or reputation, or, what is more important, has ever been able 
to accomplish anything, for the good of himself and his fellows, 
unless he has been dominated by some master-purpose. 
Luther, if not a man of one idea, was a man with a single 
object ; and we know how gloriously he accomplished it. 
The same may be said of Cavour, of Leyden, of John Wesley, 
of all the world's great statesmen and reformers. There was 
much shrewdness in the remark made upon Canning, that he 
had too many talents ; or, as his early patron, William Pitt, 
put it, that he might have achieved anything had he but gone 
on straight to the mark. Yet, wit as he was, and satirist as 
well as orator and politician — that is, versatile as were his 
abilities — they were all directed by his ambition towards one 
goal — the acquisition of political power. Not the grandest of 
goals certainly, but one not to be attained without a complete 
concentration of energy and genius. Even a greater direct- 
ness of purpose may he traced in the career of Pitt, who lived 
— ay, and died — for the sake of political supremacy. That 
was the aim, the purpose of his life ; and so we see him " neg- 
lecting everything else — careless of friends, careless of expendi- 
ture, so that, with an income of ten thousand a year and no 
family, he died hopelessly in debt ; tearing up by the roots 
from his breast a love most deep and tender because it ran 
counter to his ambition ; totally indifferent to posthumous 
fame, so that he did not take the pains to transmit to posterity 
a single one of his speeches ; utterly insensible to the claims 



70 A STEADY PURPOSE. 

of literature, art and belles-lettres ; living and working terribly 
for the one sole purpose of wielding the governing power of 
the nation." 

The " one aim " we take to be the secret of a useful and 
worthy life ; the " one idea " a delusion of which the mind can- 
not too soon be disabused. A concentration of energy and 
talent upon the object which it is most important for us to 
secure, implies no absolute disregard of every other. Because 
a traveller presses forward resolutely to the desired haven, and 
refuses to wander from the direct road, it by no means follows 
that he shall have no eyes for the blossoms that shine by the 
wayside, no ears for the music of the brook that ripples through 
the bracken. An indifference to everything that brightens or 
ennobles life is very apt to militate against success — success, 
that is, of the highest and purest kind. Because Faraday made 
chemistry his great pursuit, he did not neglect every other 
branch of science. Because John Stuart Mill gave himself up 
chiefly to political economy and metaphysical inquiry, he did 
not deny himself the sweet pleasures of botany and music. Mr. 
Gladstone is a fine Homeric scholar as well as practical states- 
man. The exclusive cultivation of a single faculty would 
necessarily dwarf and wither all the rest. " Has not every pro- 
fession," says an acute writer, " its peculiar tendencies, that 
more or less cripple, mutilate, or warp those that devote them- 
selves to it too exclusively, paralyzing this or that mental or 
moral faculty, and preventing them from attaining to a com- 
plete, healthful, and whole-souled manhood ? Is not the weav- 
er, in many cases, but an animated shuttle ? the seamstress a 
living needle ? the laborer a spade that eats and sleeps ? Does 
not the clergyman too often get a white neck cloth ideal of the 



MENTAL DISSIPATION. 7 1 

world, with some twists of dyspepsia in it ? and do not his shy- 
ness, stiffness, and lack of practicality give too much occasion 
for the jest that the human race is divided into three classes, 
— men, women, and ministers ? Does not the lawyer often be- 
come a mere bundle of precedents, a walking digest of real- 
estate rules and decisions in law or chancery ? Are not scholars 
too often Dominie Sampsons, — mere bloated encyclopaedias of 
learning ? Is not the time rapidly drawing near when, to find 
a perfect man, we must take a brain from one, a heart from 
another, senses from a third, and a stomach from a fourth ? 

Fowell Buxton relates a conversation which he had with 
Sugden, the great lawyer, afterwards Lord St. Leonards. He 
had asked him the secret of his wonderful success. The 
answer was : " I resolved, when beginning to read law, to 
make everything I acquired perfectly my own, and never to go 
to a second thing till I had entirely accomplished the first. 
Many of my competitors read as much in a day as I read in a 
week, but at the end of twelve months my knowledge was as 
fresh as on the day it was acquired, while theirs had glided 
away from their recollection." 

To adapt the appropriate remarks of another writer, we may 
point out that the secret of the failure is mental dissipation ; the 
expenditure of our moral and intellectual energies on a dis- 
tracting multiplicity of objects, instead of confining them to 
one leading pursuit. To do a thing perfectly, it is essential 
that an exclusiveness of attention should be bestowed upon it, 
as if, for the time, all other objects, if not worthless, were at least 
superfluous. " Just as the general who scatters his soldiers all 
about the country ensures defeat, so does he whose attention 
is for ever diffused through such innumerable channels that it 



72 A STEADY PURPOSE. 

can never gather in force on any one point. The human mind, 
in short, resembles a burning-glass, whose rays are intense only 
as they are concentrated. As the glass burns only when its 
light is conveyed to the focal point, so the former illumines the 
world of science, literature, or business, only when it is directed 
to a solitary object. Or, to take another illustration, what is 
more powerless than the scattered clouds of steam as they rise 
in the sky ? They are as impotent as the dewdrops that fall 
nightly upon the earth ; but concentrated and condensed in 
a steam-boiler, they are able to cut through solid rock, to move 
mountains into the sea, and to bring the Antipodes to our 
doors." 

To sum up : Having fixed upon your aim in life, pursue it 
steadfastly and with all your might, allowing yourself to be 
turned aside neither to the right nor the left. 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE THREE FS— PUNCTUALITY, PRUDENCE AND 
PERSE VERA NCE. 

" Let us go forth, and resolutely dare, 
With sweat of brow, to toil our little day. " 

— Lord Houghton. 

" To succeed, one must sometimes be very bold, and sometimes very 
prudent. "-—Napoleon. 

" Be firm • one constant element of luck 
Is genuine, solid, old Teutonic pluck. 
Stick to your aim : the mongrel's hold will slip, 
But only crowbars loose the bulldog's grip ; 
Small though he looks, the jaw that never yields 
Drags down the bellowing monarch of the fields." 

— Oliver Wendell Holmes. 

"Time and patience change the mulberry leaf to satin." — Eastern Pro- 
verb. 

1 ' Let every man be occupied, and occupied in the highest employment 
of which his nature is capable, and die with the consciousness that he has 
done his best." — Sydney Smith. 

•• Virtue is ever sowing of her seeds : 

In the trenches for the soldier ; in the wakeful study 
For the scholar ; in the furrows of the sea 
For men of that profession ; — of all which 
Arise and spring up honor." 

— Webster. 



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CHAPTER IV. 

THE THREE P's — PUNCTUALITY, PRUDENCE, 
AND PERSEVERANCE. 

WE take it for granted that, on whatever vocation in life 
the young man may finally determine, he will desire 
to be successful in it. And this from no mean motive, but 
because it is his duty to employ the talents with which God has 
intrusted him to the highest advantage. Now, success is pos- 
sible only under certain conditions. You must observe the 
laws which govern events and direct the fortunes of men. If 
you seek to ascend a mountain, you are well aware that you 
must call into requisition certain physical and mental faculties. 
And so, if you would ripen into a great scholar, or become a 
merchant prince, or earn distinction as an engineer, or conquer 
fame as an artist, you must be prepared to bring all your powers 
into action. But you must also submit to the necessary train- 
ing. It is not so much a question of talent as of morale, you 
see ; and though it is a good thing to be clever, intelligent, 
sagacious, it is perhaps better to be industrious, patient, pru- 
dent. At all events, in profession or trade, there are three 
principles from which no man can diverge with impunity : the 
three P's — Punctuality, Prudence, and Perseverance. A firm 
adherence to these would save many a life from shipwreck ; 



76 THE THREE T'S. 

would often save the efforts of years from ultimate calamity. 
In " business " especially, that is, in commercial and trading 
transactions, caution, prudence, sagacity, and deliberation, are 
all described as necessary to success. Some men, it is true, 
get rich suddenly ; but the majority do not and cannot storm 
the citadel of fortune, cannot carry it by a coup- de-main. 
Napoleon once said, " I have no idea of a merchant's acquiring 
fortune as a general wins a battle — at a single blow." A for- 
tune thus suddenly won is apt to vanish quite as suddenly. 
"The Three P's," as we propose to call them, should always be 
precious to the young man of business. 

We have referred in a preceding chapter to the far-famed 
American merchant, Mr. Astor Always an early riser, he left 
business at two o'clock in the afternoon, having worked steadily 
for several hours. He was never at rest, though seldom in 
haste. His resources and his mental forces were always mar- 
shalled and in order. An enthusiastic admirer of this Napoleon 
of the counting-house declared that Mr. Astor could command 
an army of half-a-million men. His unfailing industry was 
impeded by no false pride. He would work with his own hands, 
and was never ashamed of his workman's garb. He knew that 
the master's example must encourage, support, and direct ; 
that the master's eye must be on the work or it will be ill done. 
If his furs needed sorting and beating, he would undertake the 
toil himself with the best of his men ; and his willingness and 
readiness for manual labor were as great when he was worth 
millions as when struggling for the first step upward. No dis- 
ciple of Benjamin Franklin's " Poor Richard " was ever more 
convinced of the value of punctuality, prudence, and persever- 
ance. 



PRESERVERANCE. jf 

We take two more American examples : — Saul Alley, the 
New York merchant, was bound, when in his early boyhood, to 
a coachmaker. During his apprenticeship his father died, leav- 
ing him wholly dependent on his own exertions ; so that the 
very clothes he wore he was obliged to earn by laboring extra 
hours after the regular time for leaving off work. The founda- 
tion of his colossal fortune was laid by the exercise of prudence 
and perseverence while engaged as a journeyman mechanic. 

Cornelius Lawrence, another opulent New York trader, was 
originally a farmer's boy, and toiled many a weary day in rain 
and sunshine on Long Island. Few were the lads within a 
score of miles of him who could mow a wider swath or turn a 
straighter furrow. 

The following brief plain narrative was told by a man who 
had succeeded in life : 

" While yet a youth, I entered a store one day, and asked if 
a clerk were not wanted. ' No ! ' in a rough tone, was the 
answer, all being too busy to bother with me ; when I reflected 
that if they did not want a clerk they might want a laborer, 
but I was dressed too fine for that. I went to my lodgings, 
put on a rough garb, and the next day went into the same 
store and demanded if they did not want a porter, and again, 
" No, sir,' was the response ; when I exclaimed, in despair, 
almost, ' A laborer ? Sir, I will work at any wages. Wages 
is not my object. I must have employ, and I want to be use- 
ful in business.' 

" These last remarks attracted their attention ; and in the 
end I was hired as a laborer in the basement and sub-cellar 
at a very low pay, scarcely enough to keep body and soul 
together. 



yS THE THREE P'S. 

" In the basement and sub-cellar I soon attracted the atten- 
tion of the counting-house and chief clerk. I saved enough 
for my employers, in little things usually wasted, to pay my 
wages ten times over, and they soon found it out. I did not 
let anybody about commit petty larcenies without remon- 
strance and threats of exposure, and real exposure if remon- 
strance would not do. I did not ask for any two hours' leave. 
If I was wanted at three in the morning, I never growled, but 
told everybody to go home, ' and I will see everything right.' 
I loaded off at daybreak packages for the morning boats, or 
carried them myself. In short, I soon became — as I meant to 
be — indispensable to my employers, and I rose, and rose, until 
I became head of the house, with money enough for any lux- 
ury or any position a mercantile man may desire for himself 
and family in a great city." 

That industry and patience meet with their reward has been 
from the earliest working days of humanity the stock theme ox 
moralists. We remember that in our own childhood a favorite 
maxim with our dominie was, u Patience and perseverance 
sooner or later overcome all difficulties." There is more truth 
in the old adage than in most such adages, and the experience 
of many of us will have confirmed it. Whether these qualities 
are always so severely tested as they were by the great Phila- 
delphia banker, Girard,* on one notable occasion, may be 
doubted ; and the anecdote, therefore, seems worth relating. 

Early one morning, while Mr. Girard was walking round the 
square now adorned by the splendid memorials of his liberal- 
ity, one John Smith, who had worked on the buildings in the 

♦Girard was a Frenchman by birth. He was born in 1750, died in 
1 83 1. The Girard College perpetuates his memory. 



MR. GIRARD. 79 

humble capacity of a laborer, and had attracted Mr. Girard's 
attention by his activity, applied to him for assistance. The 
following dialogue then took place : — 

" Assistance — work — ha ? You want to work ?" 

"Yes, sir ; it's a long time since I've had anything to do." 

" Very well. I shall give you some. You see dem stone 
yondare ? " 

" Yes, sir." 

" Very well ; you shall fetch and put them in this place, 
you see ?" 

"Yes, sir/' 

" And when you done, come to me at my bank." 

With patient perseverance Smith performed his task, and 
completed it about one o'clock. He then repaired to Mr. 
Girard to report progress, and at the same time asked him for 
further employment. 

" Ah, ha, oui ! You want more work ? Very well ; you 
shall go place dem stone where you got him. Understandez ? 
You take him back." 

"Yes, sir." 

Without a murmur Smith applied himself to his task, though 
it was a very Sissyphus-like one, and having finished it about 
sunset, waited on Mr. Girard to receive payment. 

"Ah, ha! you all finish?" 

" Yes, sir.* 

"Very well ; how much money shall I give you ? " 

"One dollar, sir." 

"Dat is honest. You take no advantage. Dare is your 
dollar." 

" Can I do anything else for you ? " 



80 THE THREE T*S. 

" Oui. Come here when you get up to-morrow. You shall 
have more work." 

Smith next morning was punctual to his appointment ; but 
not a little astonished was he when told that he must " take 
dem stone back again ; " nor was his surprise diminished when 
for a fourth time he received the same order. However, he 
was content to execute the order given him without asking for 
a reason, and persevered all day at his superfluous work. 
When he called on Mr. Girard in the evening, and informed 
him that he had replaced the stones as they were, the eccentric 
banker saluted him most cordially. 

" Ah, Monsieur Smit, you shall be my man ; you mind your 
own business, and do it ; you ask no questions ; you do not 
interfere. You got one vife ? " 
" Yes, sir." 

" Ah, dat is bad. Von vife is bad. Any de little chicks ? " 
*' Yes, sir ; five living." 

H Five ? dat is good ; I like five. I like you, Monsieur 
Smit ; you like to work ; you mind your business. Now, I do 
something for your five little chicks. There, take these five 
pieces of paper for your five little chicks ; you shall work for 
them ; you shall mind your own business, and your little chicks 
shall never want five more." 

The grateful feelings of Mr. Smith overcame him, so that 
he could not speak, and he retired in eloquent silence. By 
patient and persevering industry, and by single-minded atten- 
tion to the work he had in hand, he became, however, in a few 
years one of the wealthiest and most respected merchants in 
Philadelphia. 

Genius has been happily defined as "an immense capacity 



ACTORS. 8 1 

for taking trouble," and its achievements are owing to its 
" passionate patience " rather than to its faculty of imagination 
or insight. No great musician or painter has accomplished his 
masterpieces by a " sudden inspiration." "Ecstatic bursts," 
and ''divine impulses," and "flashes of thought," are known 
only to feeble sentimentalists. What is the cultivation to which 
true genius, the genius of men like Mendelssohn and Beethoven, 
Michael Angelo and Turner, Gibson and Canova, willingly 
submits ? " It needs unwearied labor at what to another man 
would seem the drudgery of the art — what ceases to be drud- 
gery only because the light of genius is always present in every 
trifling act. Nothing can be a greater mistake than to suppose 
that genius dispenses with labor. What genius does is to in- 
spire the soul with a power to persevere in the labor that is 
needed ; but the greatest geniuses in every art invariably labor 
at their art far more than all others, because their genius shows 
them the value of such patient labor, and aids them to persist 
in it." What is true of the musician and the painter is true 
also of the actor. Macready was a patient and industrious 
student; so was Garrick ; so was Mrs. Siddons. "Acting," 
said the elder Kean, whose marvellous power electrified 
audiences, "does not, like Dogberry's reading and writing, 
* come by nature ; ' with all the high qualities which go to the 
formation of a great exponent of the book of life (for so the 
stage may justly be called), it is impossible, totally impossible, 
to leap at once to fame. 'What wound did ever heal but by 
slow degrees ? ' says our immortal author ; and what man, say 
I, ever became an actor without a long and sedulous apprentice- 
ship ? I know that many men think to step from behind a 
counter or jump from the high stool of an office to the boards. 



82 THE THREE F'S. 

and take the town by storm in ' Richard ' or ' Othello,' is ' as 
easy as lying.' O, the born idiots ! they remind me of the 
halfpenny candles stuck in the windows on illumination nights ; 
they nicker and nutter their brief minute, and go out un- 
heeded." 

" Where there is a will there is a way." Like most proverbs, 
this oft-repeated one needs to be taken with large qualification, 
for in human affairs there can be no absolute certainty ; but, as 
a general rule, it may safely be accepted and acted upon. So 
long as body and mind preserve their soundness, the " way " 
will be found by the resolute "will." Only the weak, the 
cowardly, or the idle, seek to excuse themselves by prating of 
difficulties that cannot be overcome, or obstacles that cannot 
be removed. The engineer, when he cannot carry his railway 
across or around a mountain, tunnels through it. " Impossi- 
bilities ! " cried Lord Chatham ; " I trample upon impossi- 
bilities ! " " Impossible ! " exclaimed Mirabeau, " Talk not 
to me of that blockhead of a word." If a man's faith in him- 
self and his mission be real and earnest, he cannot fail to gain 
a certain measure of success. If he do not satisfy the world, 
he will at least satisfy the voice of conscience. When we look 
back upon the history of humanity, we see nothing else but a 
record of what has been achieved by men of strong will. The 
present elevation of the race, the refined civilization of Christ- 
endom, is due to their unflinching courage. Their will it is 
that has opened up the way to their fellows. Their enthusiasm 
of purpose, their fixity of aim, their heroic perseverance — we 
are all inheritors of what these high qualities have won. " The 
world is no longer clay," says Emerson, "but rather iron in the 
hands of its workers, and men have got to hammer out a place 



SEBASTIAN GOMEZ. 83 

for themselves by steady and rugged blows." But it is the 
persistent effort of those who have come before us that has 
made the world thus plastic. 

Let us turn to some examples. Quintin Malsys, the painter 
of Antwerp, failed in his worship of art until his master told him 
that he should not wed his daughter until he had produced a 
great picture. There was " the way " to the prize he coveted ; 
he soon showed that he had "the will." Early and late he 
toiled at his breathing canvass, and produced within six months 
the famous masterpiece of u The Misers." We have read of an 
English carpenter who was observed one day to be planing the 
magistrate's bench, then under repair, with singular carefulness. 
He was asked the reason for this unusual application. "Be- 
cause," he said, "I wish to make it easy against the time when 
I come to sit upon it myself." The author of " Pickwick " and 
"Nicholas Nickleby" was accustomed to ascribe his splendid 
literary success to his habits of industry and perseverance. 
Let us bethink ourselves also of Sebastian Gomez, a celebrated 
Spanish painter. He was a mulatto, and a slave of that still 
more famous master, Murillo, on whose pupils he waited as an 
attendant. Heaven had endowed him with a fervent love of 
art ; and little did the gay young Spaniards who amused them- 
selves by jests at his dark complexion and ungainly features 
suspect the elevation of soul that animated his misshapen body. 
He received no lessons ; from none did he obtain a kindly sug- 
gestion or a precious hint ; but with an intelligent eye he 
watched the operations of the students, and carefully did he 
examine the progress of their daily labors. At length he found 
courage to imitate what he had seen, devoting the hours of 
night to his secret, happy toil ; and, as he grew bolder and 



84 THE THREE P y S. 

more confident, venturing even to correct the errors of outline 
and coloring which he discovered in the rude essays of Murillo's 
pupils. Great was the suprise of the later when they returned 
to their studio in the morning, to find that here an arm had been 
added and there a leg ; that inharmonious proportions had been 
carefully adjusted ; that woolly skies, harsh and discordant, had 
been toned and softened down into radiant heavens ; and mean- 
ingless patches of ultramarine converted into sweet woodland 
lakes. With the credulous superstition of time, they ascribed 
these improvements to the nocturnal labors of some supernatural 
power ; and Gomez, to avert suspicion, strengthened them in 
their folly by declaring that it must be the Zomba, a spirit of 
whom the West Indian negroes were mortally afraid. But a 
finely painted head of the Blessed Virgin having attracted 
Murillo's attention, the great master disinclined to believe that 
Zombas would paint Madonnas, instituted a close investigation, 
and discovered, to his no small wonder, that it was the produc- 
tion of his mulatto page. He summoned him to his studio ; 
and when the poor slave confessed on his knees the secret of 
his nights of toil, he raised him up with words of encouragement 
promised him his liberty, and adopted him as his pupil and suc- 
cessor. Gomez, as is well known, rose to a high position as a 
painter, and executed many highly-finished pictures, distin- 
guished by their truthfulness and depth of expression, by their 
warmth and mellowness of coloring. In the history of art he 
figures as "Murillo's Mulatto." He survived his illustrious 
master only a few years, dying about 1689 or 1690. 

The heroism of perseverance was surely exhibited by Euler 
when, prevented by blindness from committing his calculations 
to paper, he accustomed himself to work them out mentally, 



BERNARD PELISSY. 85 

and retained the result in his memory. Not less note-worthy 
is the example of Mr. Henry Fawcett, the politician and political 
economist, who, instead of allowing his blindness to prove an 
incumberance to him, has succeeded in spite of it in gaining a 
very considerable amount of political influence. This inflexible 
industry and this power of will have been the characteristic 
traits of most men who have risen to eminence. Without their 
impulse and influence could Hannibal have led his army across 
the Alps, and, almost unsupported by Carthage, have planted 
his standard within sight of the walls of Rome ? Was it not 
inspiration of these qualities that carried Julius Caesar through 
his campaigns in Gaul and raised him to the throne of an im- 
perial dictator ? " Quicquid vult, valde vult ; " that is the 
watchword of true greatness. What Dr. Arnold said of the 
boys at Rugby may be said of men on the stage of the world, — 
" The difference between one and another consists not so much 
in talent as in energy." The energy which manifests itself in 
an unflinching perseverence, in a patient diligence, is the spell 
that binds and overcomes all the powers of nature. 

Everybody is familiar with the name of Bernard Palissy, the 
French potter. He has long been used to point a moral and 
adorn a tale. Recently Mr. Longfellow has introduced him 
effectively into his " Keramos " : — 

" Who is it in the suburbs here, 

This Potter, working with such cheer, 
This madman, as the people say, 
Who breaks his tables and his chairs 
To feed his furnace fires, nor cares 
Who goes unfed if they are fed, 
Nor who may live if they are dead ? 

O Palissy ! within thy breast 
Burned the hot fever of unrest ; 
Thine was the prophet's vision, thine 



86 THE THREE F'S. 

The exultation, the divine 
Insanity of noble minds, 
That never falters nor abates, 
That labors and endures and waits, 
Till all that it foresees it finds, 
Or what it cannot find creates." 

His story will always be told as long as an example is wanted 
of the success which ultimately attends continuous and patient 
effort ; and, as such, the narrative of his struggles during the 
years he expended on the art of enamelling pottery ware will 
possess a perpetual interest. How he fed his furnace-fire with 
his chairs, his tables, and the joists and rafters of his rooms ; 
how he spent all he could accumulate on what to his wife as 
well as to his neighbors seemed a visionary object ; how he 
endured in silence the sharpest of household sorrows ; how he 
mourned over six children successively torn from his side ; how 
he bore without answer or anger the injurious reproaches arid 
railings of a shrewish wife ; how he sweated at the devouring 
furnace, until his hose — " a world too wide " — slipped from his 
shrunken legs ; how all men ridiculed or condemned the enthu- 
siasm they could not understand ; how he stole through the 
streets with bowed head and pale seamed face, showing that no 
one sympathised with him in his heroic life work ; how he 
hungered and thirsted, and, what was harder, much harder, to 
endure, saw his children hungering and thirsting too ; and how, 
in spite of all, he persevered, and strove and hoped, rising up, 
after every failure, like a giant refreshed by " new wine," or 
Antaeus after touching his mother-earth ; and how he suc- 
ceeded in rediscovering the great secret of enamelled ware, 
which for centuries had been lost. In all this lie, no doubt, 
the elements of a vivid and animated romance. The tale is 
one to be read and pondered, and its moral is one to be laid to 



PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT. 87 

heart. It is in Palissy's spirit, with Palissy's perseverance, 
Palissy's devotion to one great aim, that the young should take 
up the gauntlet which Fortune flings down in the world's lists. 

" It is the loving labor at his own tasks," says Bishop W. 
Temple, " which makes a man a thorough scholar. It is in- 
cessant practice which makes a man skillful at a game. And 
why is all this ? Apparently because our nature is so framed 
that in this way only can any knowledge, or skill, or art, or 
faculty, or whatever else we may call that which enables us to 
do what we wish to do really well, be so worked into us as to 
be completely ours. To see how to do a thing is not enough. 
The power of really doing it implies that the needful science or 
skill shall have penetrated us through and through, until we do 
instinctively, almost mechanically, all that is needed for the 
purpose — until the little trifles which are so hard always to at- 
tend to, and which are so absolutely necessary to true success, 
cease to demand attention, because, indeed, it would require 
an effort not to do them — until in all trivial matters we do the 
right thing as unconsciously, as instantaneously, as we put our 
hands to break our fall whenever our foot slips under us as we 
walk." 

The lives of great lawyers provide us with numerous examples 
of work done in this spirit, of obstacles surmounted, sufferings 
bravely endured, and industry triumphant. In the legal pro- 
fession prizes are never won except by strenuous application 
and the energy of patience. The eminent special pleader, Mr. 
Chitty, when consulted by an anxious father respecting his 
son's prospects at the bar, significantly asked, " Can your son 
eat sawdust without butter ?" Lord Campbell, who rose to the 
woolsack, earned a scanty living by reporting for the press 



88 THE THREE P 'S. 

during the earlier years of his legal career. When on circuit, 
he walked from county town to county town because he could 
not afford to pay coach fares. The great Lord Ellenborough 
was a brilliant illustration of pertinacious endeavor. When, 
after prolonged application to his studies, he felt a sensation of 
weariness stealing over him, he would write on a piece of paper, 
in large characters, the words "Read or starve !" and set them 
before his aching eyes. Lords Thurlow and Kenyon underwent 
the severest privations while waiting for success, and were in 
the habit of dining together at a small eating-house near Chan- 
cery Lane, at the cost of sevenpence-halfpenny per head ! 
When Wilberforce asked Lord Eldon how two young friends 
of his could best make their way at the bar, the venerable ex- 
Chancellor replied, " I have no, rule to give them, but that they 
must make up their minds to live like a hermit and work like a 
horse." 

It is almost needless to say that in other professions the road 
to success is equally strewn with thorns and thistles. The 
famous surgeon, Sir Astley Cooper, was glad as a student to oc- 
cupy a room on the third story of a house in an obscure street, 
at six shillings and sixpence a week. Dr. Adam Clark, at one 
time held in repute as a Biblical commentator, was the son of 
a poor Irish schoolmaster. When at the age of twenty, he 
sought employment in England as a preacher, his small stock 
was soon reduced to a solitary sixpence, and this declined 
to three-halfpence. Yet with so insignificant a sum in his 
pocket, he could calmly say to John Wesley, " I wish to do and 
be what God pleases," and went at once to his work. For 
many years he was restricted to the humblest and most arduous 
occupations, but never failed to act upon Wesley's advice, that 



SAMUEL DREW. 89 

"he should cultivate his mind so far as his circumstances would 
allow, and not forget anything he had ever learned." Having 
acquired some knowledge of Oriental tongues, he began to wish 
earnestly for a Polyglot Bible ; but as his whole income was 
only three pounds per quarter, with his food, he could not af- 
ford to purchase books. Unexpectedly he received a bank- 
note for ten-pounds from a friend, and exclaiming, " Here is 
the Polyglot," wrote to London for a copy, which he obtained 
for the exact sum at his disposal. 

The early trials of Samuel Drew were even of a harsher kind. 
The son of a Cornish day-laborer, he was educated at a penny- 
a-week school until he attained the mature age of eight years, 
when he was sent out to get his living as " a huddle-boy " at a 
tin-mine, earning three-halfpence a day. At ten he was ap- 
prenticed to a shoemaker, and endured such cruel treatment 
that he frequently contemplated running away and turning 
pirate. When about seventeen, he acted on his intention so far 
as to leave his master's house and make towards the coast ; but 
a night in a hayfield cooled his ardor, and he returned to his 
last. His father procured him employment at St. Austell as a 
journeyman shoemaker ; and a narrow escape from death 
having sobered his mind, he began to attend the preaching of 
the Wesleyan Methodists. Thereafter he entered upon a new 
way of life. With wonderful resolution he undertook to educate 
himself, though he had almost forgotten how to read and write. 
But he was nowise daunted ; he believed that everything was 
possible to patience and courage. " The more I read," he says, 
" the more I felt my ignorance ; and the more I felt my ignor- 
ance, the more invincible became my energy to surmount it. 
Every leisure moment was now employed in reading one thing 



90 THE THREE E'S. 

or another. Having to support myself by manual labor, my 
time for reading was but little, and to overcome this disadvan- 
tage, my usual method was to place a book before me while at 
meat, and at every repast I read five or six pages." 

After awhile he began business on his own account, with a 
few shillings only in his pocket ; but he had by this time gained 
so high a character, that a friendly neighbor offered him a small 
loan, which was excepted, and, we may add, repaid. "He 
started," we are told, " with a determination to ' owe no man 
anything,' and he held to it in the midst of many privations. 
Often he went to bed supperless to avoid rising in debt. His 
ambition was to achieve independence by industry and economy, 
and in this he gradually succeeded. In the midst of incessant 
labor, he sedulously strove to improve his mind, studying as- 
tronomy, history, and metaphysics. He was induced to pursue 
the latter study chiefly because it required fewer books to con- 
sult than either of the others. ' It appeared to be a thorny 
path,' he said, 'but I determined, nevertheless, to enter, and 
accordingly began to tread it.'" So he continued to work at 
his business and to labor at the cultivation of his mind. His 
study was the kitchen, and his desk the bellows. He perse- 
vered and he toiled, and at length he produced his once famous 
" Essay on the Immateriality and Immortality of the Human 
Soul," and sprang into repute. Towards the close of his career 
he was able to say, ' Raised from one of the lowest stations of 
society, I have endeavored through life to bring my family into 
a state of respectability by honest industry, frugality, and a 
high regard for my moral character. Divine providence has 
smiled on my exertions and crowned my wishes with success." 
Perseverance not for himself but for his country, was the key- 



FREDERICK PERTHES. 9 1 

note of the life of Frederick Perthes, the German publisher and 
patriot. In his youth he had fought a hard battle for his daily 
bread ; but having won his way to a position of comparative 
affluence, he devoted his energies and his means to the regen- 
eration of his country. Let us glance at a few details. He 
began his apprenticeship to the book-trade at Leipzig in 1787. 
His master treated him with cruel rigor. His allowance for 
breakfast was a halfpenny roll ; from one o'clock to eight he 
was allowed nothing. Excessive labor and privation broke 
down his young strength, and he lay ill for nine weeks, wholly 
neglected, except by his master's second daughter, Frederika, 
a child of twelve, who proved to him quite a ministering angel. 
All day long she sat, knitting-needle in hand, by the invalid's 
bedside, talking with him, consoling him, and attending to his 
wants. Upon the floor, among other old books, lay a transla- 
tion of Muratori's ' History of Italy ;' and the poor girl, with a 
noble kindness, read through several of its heavy quartos in the 
obscurity of that little attic. In a romance this idyll would end 
in a love-match between the youth and the maiden, but in real 
life it had a very different termination. Frederika married 
somebody else, and Perthes continued to work and wait. He 
studied the masterpieces of German literature, and attempted 
to give expression to his thoughts. His apprenticeship expiring 
in 1793, he removed to Hamburg, where he was fortunate 
enough to obtain an introduction into the most refined and cul- 
tivated society. With the assistance of a few friends, he started 
in business on his own account, and soon included among his 
customers, and, we may add, his friends, Matthias Claudius, 
the celebrated author of the " Wandsbecker Bote,"* Jacobi the 

* " The Wansbeck Messenger," a series of poems and essays which Clau- 
dius wrote during his residence at Wansbeck. 



92 7 HE THREE PS. 

philosopher, and the celebrated Count Stollberg. The influence 
of these men, and especially of Claudius, created in the mind 
of Perthes a profound love of truth and beauty, and a practical 
philanthropy which showed itself in a vigorous effort to purify 
the book-trade and literature of Germany. " I know," he said, 
"that the book-trade can be managed mechanically, and as a 
way of merely making money, just as I see among priests, and 
professors, and generals some who, in giving their services, think 
only of their daily bread. But a shudder comes over me when 
I find booksellers making common cause with a crew of scrib- 
blers who hire out their wits for stabling and provender. Ger- 
many is flooded with their miserable publications, and will be 
delivered from the plague only when the booksellers shall care 
more for honor than for gold." 

After the battle at Jena, and the humiliation of Prussia by 
the Emperor Napoleon, the energies of Perthes found a new 
object. His absorbing hope and thought came to be the deliv- 
erance of Germany from French tyranny. The occupation of 
Hamburg by a French army almost ruined his trade, but his 
anxiety now was for his country and not for himself. He saw 
that Germany had fallen mainly through her own vices. Her 
people had been deficient in religious principle, in independence 
of character, in regard for the national honor. His efforts were 
directed, therefore, to a revivification of the national life. He 
founded the " National Museum," a periodical in the pages of 
which the best German writers spoke out heartily and bravely 
to their countrymen, and he persevered with it in defiance of 
grievous obstacles, until compelled to stop by want of funds. 
When Hamburg was freed from the long misery of a French 
occupation, Perthes, with all his old industry, set to work to 






THURLOW WEED. 93 

restore his business. Such was his activity, that in a very brief 
period he paid his creditors, and resumed his efforts for the 
improvement both of German letters and the book-trade. • To 
infuse a higher spirit into the political literature of the country 
was one of his cherished designs, for he regarded it as a neces- 
sary prelude to the unification of Germany. " If my hopes be 
fulfilled," he wrote, " we shall see the North and the South, as 
two halves of all Germany, standing as a mighty bulwark against 
every attack from without, while our internal divisions will be 
merged in an amicable contest for the best development of con- 
stitutional freedom and order, of attachment and fidelity to our 
princes, and of such intellectual culture as may set forth the 
glory of God and advance the best interests of man." After 
the death of his wife in 182 1, he removed to Gotha, where he 
founded a new establishment, and applied himself to the pub- 
lication chiefly of works of an historical and religious character 
—such as those of Schleiermacher, Neander, Risk, Ullmann, 
and Tholuck. A well-spent life was closed by a peaceful death 
on the 1 8th of May, 1843. 

An American author cites a passage from the autobiog- 
raphy of the well-known journalist and politician, Thurlow 
Weed : — " Many a farmer's son has found the best opportunities 
for mental improvement in his intervals of leisure while tending 
'sap bush.' Such, at any rate, was my own experience. At 
night you had only to fill the kettles and keep up the fires, the 
sap having been gathered and the wood cut 'before dark.' 
During the day we would always lay in a good stock of 'fat 
pine ' by the light of which, blazing bright before the sugar- 
house, in the posture the serpent was condemned to assume as 
a penalty for tempting our great first grandmother, I passed 



94 THE THREE F'S. 

many and many a delightful night in reading. I remember in 
this way to have read a history of the French Revolution, and 
to have obtained from it a better and more enduring knowledge 
of its events and horrors, and of the actors in that great national 
tragedy, than I have received from all subsequent reading. I 
remember also how happy I was in being able to borrow the 
book of a Mr. Keyes, after a two-mile tramp through the snow, 
shoeless, my feet swaddled in remnants of a rag-carpet." 

Well has it been said that it is difficult to exaggerate the 
wonders which perseverence and patience — in other words, 
" intense and persistent labor " — can accomplish, when impelled 
by the strong will. And the enormous toil and long prepara- 
tory training which men voluntary undergo for the sake of what, 
after all, are comparatively mean and trivial objects, must often 
reproach the supine and indolent engaged in lighter pursuits. 
" You will see one man toiling for years to draw sweet strains 
from a fiddle-string, or to bring down a pigeon on the wing ; 
another tasking his inventive powers, and torturing verbs and 
substantives like a Spanish inquisitor, to become a punster ; a 
third devoting half his life to acquiring the art of balancing 
himself on a rope, or of standing on his head on the top of a 
pole ; a fourth spending time enough in getting a mastery of 
chess to go through the entire circle of the sciences and learn 
half-a-dozen languages. 

Along with patience and perseverance, we have classed as 
essential to success in life, whatever be our aim, the virtue of 
punctuality. A man who keeps his time will keep his word ; 
in truth, he cannot keep his word unless he does keep his time. 
It is painful to reflect on how many unfulfilled hopes and 
unrealized ambitions has been, and every day is being written, 



PUNCTUALITY. 95 

the melancholy epigraph, " Too late ! " Many a wasted career 
dates from a lost five minutes ; an engagement not duly kept, 
a promise not faithfully observed. The vice of unpunctuality 
grows upon the victim. He begins by being too late for break- 
fast ; he ends by being too late for fortune. In a business 
man it is certain that no defect more surely undermines confi- 
dence and breeds suspicion. The world has no sympathy to 
expend on men behind time. They are a trouble and a danger, 
and therefore they are set aside. Half the value of Blucher's 
help at Waterloo was due to the fact that he came in time. 
Punctuality is the oil which lubricates the wheels of commerce. 
A man who neglects to keep his appointment wastes not only 
his own time but that of other persons, and thus robs them of 
something which he can never repay. If you take my purse, you 
steal trash ; but if you take my time, you deprive me of that 
precious but limited capital which can never be renewed. In 
this way, as in other ways, unpunctuality betrays a want of 
conscientiousness ; and, it may be added, a superabundance of 
selfishness. " Oh, I shall be only fifteen minutes behind time ; 
Mr. Blank can wait." Can he ? How do you know that ? Do 
you know what appointments he may have made, and the 
serious mischief which his non-fulfilment of them — and proba- 
bly he cannot fulfil them if he keeps his appointment with you 
and wait your leisure — may bring down upon his head ? 

" When a regiment is under orders," writes Sir Waiter Scott, 
"the rear is often thrown into confusion because the front do 
not move steadily and without interruption. It is the same 
thing with business. If that which is first in hand be not 
instantly, steadily, and regularly despatched, other things accu- 
mulate behind, till affairs begin to press all at once, and no 



96 THE THREE P'S. 

human brain can stand the confusion." Be in time, and do 
everything in time : few maxims can be adduced of greater 
importance to men who have much to do, or have many per- 
sons depending on their movements. For that matter, it is of 
importance to every man, even so far as his own comfort is 
concerned. The unpunctual man misses his train ; is too late 
for the post ; comes to dinner when the soup is cold ; forgets 
to meet his bill until a day after it is due ; does not arrive at 
his counting-house until he has fretted his clerks and wearied 
his customers by his delay ; loses his truest friend by not keep- 
ing his engagement with him. Thus he promotes indolence, 
rouses ill-temper, injures his credit, forfeits an inestimable 
friendship, and sets everybody and everything at cross-pur- 
poses ; all for what ? For the sake of indulging his favorite 
folly of procrastination. 

Successful men have never failed to appreciate the value of 
time ; have been "misers. of minutes ; " as solicitous for those 
of others as for their own. Napoleon studied his watch as 
carefully as he studied the map of " the scene of war ; " and 
insisted upon that punctuality on the part of his lieutenants 
which he exhibited himself. r Nelson once declared that his 
success in life was owing to his having been always a quarter 
of an hour before his time. " Punctuality," said Louis XIV, 
" is the politeness of kings ; " and, no doubt, it is a fine com- 
pliment to a friend to lose no time in fulfilling your engage- 
ment with him. It allows him to suppose that you set a 
special worth on his time and company. When Washington's 
secretary would have excused himself on the score that his 
watch was wrong, the great American remarked, " Then you 
must get another watch, or I another secretary." The rulers 



PUNCTUALITY, PRUDENCE, PERSEVERANCE. 97 

of the world allow of no delay in the execution of their orders ; 
they know how much depends upon strict punctuality, and 
that a few minutes make all the difference between victory and 
defeat. It is on record that Colonel Rahl, the Hessian com- 
mander, who in the American Revolution lost honor and 
liberty at Trenton, threw away the battle through this cause. 
Absorbed in a game of cards, he neglected to read a letter 
which had reached him informing him of Washington's inten- 
tion to cross the Delaware. Thus he missed his opportunity 
of baffling the schemes of the American commander, and of 
securing, perhaps, a different result to the War of Independence. 

One American anecdote recalls another. The celebrated 
John Quincey Adams, who belonged to the older and better 
race of Republican statesmen, was so remarkable for his punc- 
tuality that men took their time from him as from an electric 
clock. On one occasion, in the House of Representatives at 
Washington, of which he was a member, it was proposed to 
call over the House and begin proceedings ; but to this propo- 
sition it was objected that Mr. Adams was not in his seat. 
Inquiry proved that the clock was three minutes too fast ; and 
before the three minutes had elapsed, Mr. Adams walked in 
and took his place with his customary exactness. 

Punctuality, Prudence, Perseverance, or the three J P's, we 
hereby recommend to the assiduous attention of our readers. 



CHAPTER V. 

BUSINESS HABITS. 

" Depend upon it, a lucky guess is never merely luck ; there is always 
some talent in it." — Miss Austen, in " Emma." 

" There is nothing more desirable than good sense and justness of mind ; 
all other qualities of mind are of limited use ; but exactness of judgment is 
of general utility in every part, and in all employments of life." — Amauld, 
" Port-Royal Logic ." 

" What should a man desire to leave ? 

A flawless work, a noble life, 

Some music harmonized from strife, 
Some finished thing, ere the slack hands at eve 

Drop, should be his to leave. 

" Or, in life's homeliest meanest spot, 

With temperate step from year to year 

To move within his little sphere, 
Leaving a pure name to be known, or not, 

This is a time man's lot." 

— F. T. Palgrave y " Lyrical Poems.'" 

" No man can end with being superior who will not begin with being 
inferior." — Sydney Smith. 





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CHAPTER V. 

BUSINESS HABITS. 

IN fighting the battle of life, we must take care, if we would 
escape without a wound as wide as a church-door, to pre- 
serve our self-control. The warrior who loses that gives 
the chances to his enemy, and to an enemy who is always on 
the watch to profit by his mistakes. The warrior who loses it. 
not, has the best of all possible auxiliaries on his side. Self- 
control implies command of temper, command of feeling, cool- 
ness of judgment, and the power to restrain the imagination 
and curb the will. It means such thorough mastery over self 
as Robert Ainsworth, the lexicographer, possessed, who, when 
his wife, in a fit of passion, committed his voluminous MS. to 
the flames, calmly turned to his desk and recommenced his 
labors. A similar misfortune befell Thomas Carlyle, and was 
similarly conquered. A friend to whom he had lent the manu- 
script of the first volume of his great prose epic, the " French 
Revolution," for perusal, carelessly left it lying on the parlor 
floor, and a servant, regarding it as a valueless bundle of waste 
paper, utilized it in kindling her fires. The original composi- 
tion of a book is in most cases a labor of love ; but to rewrite 
it from memory is a cruelly unwelcome task. Carlyle, how- 



102 BUSINESS HABITS. 

ever, without uttering a word of complaint or reproach, ad- 
dressed himself to it courageously, and at last completed the 
book in the form in which it now delights the understanding 
reader. 

Self-control avoids haste. It is always in time, but never 
before its time ; and in this respect it is allied to patience, or 
patience may be considered, perhaps, as a constituent part of 
it. Not, however, the patience which toils on unremittingly, 
but the patience which bides its opportunity. Some men have 
lost fame and fortune through their hurried efforts to snatch 
them before the fruit was ripe. They have acted like thought- 
less plotters, who rush into the streets with swords drawn and 
banners flying, only to discover that the people are not pre- 
pared to join them. Their ambition is as abortive as a Perkin 
Warbeck's. But self-control moves with deliberation though 
with promptitude. It waits until the train is laid before it 
kindles the match. And if the match will not burn, or the 
powder ignite, it tries again, like Salkeld and Home before the 
cashmere gate of Delhi. There can scarcely be named any 
great man who has not failed the first time. In such defeat no 
shame lies ; the shame consists in one's not retrieving it. Lord 
Beaconsfield made, as everybody knows, a signal failure in his 
maiden speech in the House of Commons. But he was not 
cowed by the derisive laughter which greeted him. With 
astonishing self-control, and no less astonishing self-knowledge, 
he exclaimed, " I have begun several times many things, and 
have succeeded in them at last, I shall sit down now ; but 
the time will come when you will hear me." The command of 
temper, the mastery over self, which these words displayed, is 
almost sublime. The late Lord Lytton made many failures. 



SELF-CONTROL. IO3 

His first novel was a failure ; so was his first play ; so was his 
first poem. But he would not yield to disappointment. He 
subdued his mortification, and resumed his pen, to earn the 
eventual distinction of a foremost place among our foremost 
novelists, and to contribute to the modern stage two of its most 
popular dramas. We should be disposed to define genius as 
the capacity of surviving failure ; in self-control, at all events, 
it finds a powerful auxiliary and agent. 

Self-control is like armor which helps us most when the 
struggle is sharpest. Life cannot fail to bring with it con- 
trary gales and storms of thunder and lightning ; but these 
will never do us hurt if we meet them bravely and calmly, 
and hopefully. Sorrow never withstands us long if we eye it 
unflinchingly. It is only the craven who hears the feet of the 
pursuer. Difficulties can be conquered only by decision ; 
obstacles can be removed only by arduous effort. These test 
our manhood, and at the same time confirm our self-control. 

" In the reproof of chance 
Lies the true proof of men. The sea being smooth, 
How many shallow bauble boats dare sail 
Upon her patient breast, making their way 
With those of nobler bulk ! 
But let the ruffian Boreas once enrage 
The gentle Thetis, and, anon, behold 
The strong-ribb'd bark through liquid mountains cut, 
Bounding between the two moist elements, 
Like Perseus' horse ; where's then the saucy boat 
Whose weak, untimbered sides even now 
Co-rivalled greatness ! " 

— Shakespeare. 

One important business quality is the clearness of judgment 
which discerns and seizes the happy moment. Success in life 
depends largely on what fools call "good luck;" that is, on 
opportunities promptly utilized. When he complains of his ill 
luck, be sure that he is involuntarily bearing witness to his 



1 04 B USINESS HABITS. 

carelessness of mind, his habits of indolence, apathy and in- 
difference. A French writer attributes the victory of Sala- 
manca to Wellington's good fortune ; but military critics will 
tell you that it was due to the vigilance which detected, and 
the ready resource which profited by, a false movement of the 
enemy. We have no confidence in young men who talk of 
good luck and bad luck, and seek to throw upon chance the 
burden of their own errors. There may be, as our great poet 
tells us, a tide in the affairs of men ; but it rests with men 
themselves to take it at the flood, and so be wafted on to for- 
tune. We will not discuss here the exact weight which attaches 
to circumstance as a factor in human affairs ; but we believe 
that it rarely conquers a strong man. It is only the weak, the 
idle, the profligate, the thoughtless, who are beaten by it ; and 
throwing themselves before the wheels of the Juggernaut, expect 
us to pity them as victims. In one of Richard Cumberland's 
comedies, a character is made to say, " It is not upon slight 
grounds that I despair. I have tried each walk, and am likely 
to starve at last. There is not a point to which the art and 
faculty of man can turn that I have not set mine to, but in 
vain. I am beat through every quarter of the compass. I 
have blustered for prerogative ; I have bellowed for freedom ; 
I have offered to serve my country ; I have engaged to betray 
it. Why, I have talked treason, writ treason ; and if a man 
can't live by that, he can't live by anything. Then I set up as 
a bookseller, and people immediately leave off reading. If I 
were to turn butcher, I believe, on my conscience, they'd leave 
off eating." This last quip reminds us of the humorous ex- 
aggeration of Graves in Lord Lytton's play of " Money," when 
he declares that if he had been bred a hatter, children would 



TAINE' S ' ' MORA L TEMPERA TURE. " I O 5 

have come into the world without heads ! But such successive 
failures as the dramatist's creation records can spring only from 
the mistakes and follies of the individual ; from the choice of a 
wrong calling ; from want of assiduous effort ; from deficiency 
in self-control. It may be accepted as an incontrovertible fact, 
that to every man, sooner or later, comes his opportunity ; and 
the successful man is he who knows how to turn it to advan- 
tage. 

The brilliant French litterateur, M. Taine, remarks, that 
Nature, being a sower of corn, and constantly putting her hand 
in the same sack, distributes over the soil regularly and in 
turn about the same proportionate quantity and quality of seed. 
But not all of the handfuls dropped from her hand as she strides 
over space germinate. A certain moral temperature is neces- 
sary, adds M. Taine, to develop certain talents ; if such be 
wanting, the talents prove abortive. Consequently, as the tem- 
perature changes, so will the species of talent change ; if it 
turn in an opposite direction, talent follows ; so that, in general, 
we may conceive moral temperature as making a selection 
among different species of talent, allowing only this or that 
species to develop itself to the more or less complete exclusion 
of others. 

This is very philosophical, but very vague. It is difficult to 
understand what M. Taine means by "moral temperature;" 
but, at all events, we object to the theory of selection which he 
seems to put forward. Our contention is, that the mass of 
men meet in this world with exactly the amount of success they 
deserve. No rule is without its exceptions ; and we will allow 
that cases may at rare intervals occur of unrewarded genius and 
oppressed virtue ; that the records of biography preserve the 



1 06 B USINESS HABITS. 

names of some (to use Shelley's phrase) " inheritors of unful- 
filled renown." Still we adhere to our general proposition. In 
Gray's well-known lines — 

" Some mute inglorious Milton here may lie. 

Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood," — 

apart from the injustice done to the great Puritan leader, we 
see a gross and transparent fallacy. Does the reader, however 
wide his experience, know of such instances of neglected ability ? 
Does he know of any peasant rhymester who, in more propitious 
circumstances, would develop into a Milton ? of any village 
politician who, favored by " good luck," would ripen into a 
Cromwell ? Where are these dormant geniuses, these great 
men repressed and silenced by despotic circumstances ? We 
may allow a Pliny to formulate the Pagan sentiment, " Some 
people refer their successes to virtue and ability, but it is all 
fate." We know, however, that the history of life proves it to 
be untrue. It may very well have been that Alexander trusted 
to his " good luck ;" and that Sulla, as Plutarch tells us, en- 
joyed to such an extent the smiles of circumstance as to receive 
the surname of " Fortunate ;" but both Alexander and Sulla 
were men of genius, courage, and decision of character. We 
shall not yield even though against us be brought the dictum 
of Cicero, who, commenting upon the victories of Fabius 
Maximus, Marcellus, Scipio, and Marius, says, " It was not 
only their courage but their fortune which induced the people 
to intrust them with the command of their armies. There can 
be little doubt but that, besides their abilities, there was a cer- 
tain fortune appointed to attend them, to conduct them to honor 
and renown, and to unrivalled success in the management of 
important affairs." There speaks Cicero the augur and not 



" GOOD LUCK." I07 

Cicero the philosopher. In his sager moments he would have 
acknowledged that the good fortune of the heroes he names 
was won by consummate prudence and extraordinary intellectual 
power. It is true that so sagacious a mind as Bacon could 
assert that "outward accidents conduce much to fortune ;" but 
he would have admitted, we suspect, that it is the privilege of 
genius to command and make use of these " outward accidents." 
The difference between the wise man and the fool is this, that 
the former seizes his opportunities, and the latter misses them. 
When we see Mohammed flying from his enemies, and saved 
by a spider's web ; when we think that a Whig Ministry was 
hurled from power in England by the spilling of some water 
on a lady's gown ; when we find a Franklin ascribing his turn 
of thought and conduct to the accident of a tattered copy of 
Cotton Mather's " Essays to do Good " falling into his hands ; 
and Jeremy Bentham attributing similar effects to a similar 
phrase, "The greatest good of the greatest number," which 
caught his eye at the end of a pamphlet ; when we see a Bruce 
passing through a series of perils greater than any which the 
most daring romance writer or melodramatist ever imagined for 
his hero, and then perishing from a fall in handing a lady down- 
stairs after dinner ; or a Speke accidently shooting himself in 
crossing an English hedge, after escaping innumerable dangers 
in his journey to the remote and undiscovered fountains of the 
Nile ; when we find that one man may suck an orange and be 
choked by a pip, and another swallow a penknife and live ; one 
run a thorn into his hand and die, in spite of the utmost efforts 
of medical skill and another revive after a shaft of a gig has run 
completely through his body — we cannot help believing with 
Solomon, who, doubtless, had himself witnessed many such grim 



1 08 B USINESS HAB1 TS. 

antitheses of life and death, that time and chance happen to all 
men, and that circumstances are not wholly without their in- 
fluence on human destiny. " We talk of life as a journey," says 
Sydney Smith, " but how variously is that journey performed ! 
Theie are those who come forth girt, and shod, and mantled, to 
walk on velvet lawns and marble terraces, where every gale is 
arrested and every beam is tempered. There are others who 
walk on the alpine paths of life, against driving misery, and 
through stormy sorrows, and over sharp afflictions ; walk with 
bare feet and naked breast, jaded, mangled, and chilled." 

The preceding paragraph we have adapted from a clever 
little book by Professor Mathews, which has obtained some 
popularity in the United States. It seems to us to bristle with 
false premises and erroneous inferences. Let us examine its 
statements and illustrations one by one. The reference to 
Mohammed rests upon an apocryphal story that, to conceal 
himself from his pursuers, he took refuge in a cave, over the 
mouth of which a spider immediately wove its web. When the 
enemy came up, they saw the web, and concluded that it would 
not have been there had the cave been recently occupied. 
Now this story, if true, proves only that Mohammed had 
chosen his asylum with great prudence, and that his pursuers 
allowed themselves to be foiled by a hasty and superficial 
generalization. And we have never intended to deny that a 
man may benefit by the mistakes of his enemies as much as 
by his own precautions. Passing on to the fable about the 
Whig Ministry, we need do no more than observe that no such 
trifle could have overthrown a Ministry which was not already 
tottering to its fall ; but, in truth, the anecdote is without his- 
torical warranty. Franklin's " turn of thought and conduct in 



FALSE PREMISES. IO9 

life" would have been what it was had he never met with Cotton 
Mather's " Essays ;" and it is to be noted that hundreds have 
read those exceedingly tedious dissertations without becoming 
Franklins ! The instance may, indeed, be claimed in support 
of our own argument, for it proves that Franklin had the will 
and the talent to benefit by what he read. In the same way 
we may dispose of Jeremy Bentham ; the phrase had for him a 
power and a significance which it had not for others, because 
he was already inclined to act upon the policy it indicated. 
As for the examples of Bruce and Speke, the man choked by 
an orange pip, and the other who swallowed a penknife with 
impunity, it seems enough to remark that Professor Mathews 
would hardly have adduced them had he not confounded 
"accident" with "fortune." It is possible enough that a 
careful inquiry into each case would show that prudence or 
want of prudence had much to do with the different results ; 
but we fully acknowledge that the accident of will, the acci- 
dent of a strong or frail constitution, the accident of failing 
strength, or the carelessness of one's fellow men, cannot be 
overruled by the loftiest genius or the keenest sagacity. In 
other words, no man is exempt from " the changes and chances 
of this mortal life." This admission does not invalidate our 
main contention that " man is his own star ;" that, according 
to his position in society and his natural qualifications, he can 
be what he chooses to be ; and that " good luck" and " ill 
luck" have no real existence. We call the American Pro- 
fessor into court as a witness against himself. After accumu- 
lating fallacious illustrations to bolster up the " luck or fortune" 
hypothesis, he confesses that, " in nine times out of ten" — and 
we make bold to add, in the tenth also — " it is a mere bugbear 



HO B USINESS HABITS. 

of the idle, the languid, and the self-indulgent." Precisely so ; 
and to preach to young men about good and ill luck is to 
encourage them to trust, like Micawber, to " something turning 
up," and not to their own strong arms and ready brains. Two 
men may seem to adopt the same means to attain the same 
end, and because one succeeds and the other fails, we say that 
the one is more fortunate than the other. But the one succeeds 
and the other fails because they do not really adopt the same 
means toward the same end. Of the two pilgrims who started 
on their journey each with peas in their shoes, it has been justly 
said that the one was not more fortunate than the other, only 
more wary. The man who sank by the way, toil-worn and 
foot-sore, with drops of agony on his forehead, groaning with 
pain, may have been the better walker of the two. The race is 
not always to the swift, nor the battle to the strong. It is by 
the right application of your swiftness or your strength to the 
particular object in view that you make your way to success ! 

" It is not enough," continues Professor Mathews, " to do 
the right thing, but we must do it in the right way, and at the 
right time, if we would achieve great triumphs in life. Again, 
the ' circumstances ' of which so many complain should be 
regarded as the very tools with which we are to work, the 
stepping-stones we are to mount by. They are the wind and 
tide in the voyage of life which the skilled mariner always cal- 
culates upon, and generally either takes advantage of or over- 
comes. The true way to conquer circumstances is to be a 
greater circumstance to yourself." We think these pertinent 
observations fully justify us in bringing forward the essayist 
himself as a witness in support of our side of the question. 
There is great truth in the pithy remark of Wendell Phillips, 



COMMON SENSE. 1 1 1 

that common sense plays the game of life with such cards as 
it has in its hands ; it does not waste time in protesting that 
there are no "honors" or "trumps" among them. It does 
not complain that its antagonist has a better hand, or all the 
" luck " on its side. " Common sense bows to the inevitable, 
and makes use of it. It does not ask an impossible chess- 
board, but takes the one before it, and plays the game." The 
true genius, the truly great man is he who, without taking 
account of good luck or ill luck — 

" * * * Breaks his birth's invidious bar, 
And grasps the skirts of happy chance, 
And breasts the blows of circumstance, 
And grapples with his evil star." 

Here is an anecdote which seems to us capable of being 
usefully applied. 

One day, in the winter of 1815, after the conclusion of the 
great Peace, Mr. A., a New York merchant, proceeded to his 
office. The clerks, four in number, were already at their posts, 
and each met his employer with a smile. " Well, boys," said 
he, " this is good news ; now we must be up and doing." He 
seldom used the singular number /, but spoke to his clerks and 
of them as being part and parcel with himself, associating his 
interests with theirs. "We shall have our hands full now," he 
continued ; " but we can do as much as anybody." 

Mr. A. was owner and part-owner of several ships, which, 
during the war, had been hauled ashore, three miles up the 
river, and dismantled. They were now enclosed in a bay of 
solid ice, averaging over the whole distance from one inch to 
three inches in thickness ; while such was the coldness of the 
weather that, when broken up, the pieces would unite and con- 
geal again in an hour or two. This proved no discouragement 



112 B USINESS HABITS. 

to our energetic New York merchant. He knew that it would 
be a month before the ice yielded for the season, and that thus 
the merchants in other towns where the harbors were open, 
would have time to be in the foreign markets before him. His 
decision therefore was instantly taken. 

"Reuben," he continued, addressing one of his clerks, "go 
and collect as many laborers as possible to go up the river. 

Charles, do you find Mr. , the rigger, and Mr. , the 

sailmaker, and tell them I want to see them immediately. 
John, engage half-a-dozen truckmen for to-day and to-morrow. 
Stephen, do you hunt up as many gravers and caulkers as you 
can, and hire them to work for me." And Mr. A. himself 
sallied forth to provide the necessary implements for ice- 
breaking. Before twelve o'clock that day, upwards of an 
hundred men were three miles up the river, clearing the ships 
and cutting away ice, which they sawed out in large squares, 
and then thrust under the main mass to open up the channel. 
The roofing over the ships was torn off, and the clatter of the 
caulkers' mallets was like to the rattling of a hail-storm, loads 
of rigging were passed up on the ice, riggers went to and fro 
with belt and knife, sailmakers busily plied their needles, and 
the whole presented an unusual scene of stir and activity and 
well-diverted labor. Before night the ships were afloat, and 
moved some distance down the channel ; and by the time they 
had reached the wharf, namely, in some eight or ten days, 
their rigging and spars were aloft, their upper timbers caulked, 
and everything ready for them to go to sea. 

Mr. A. was thus enabled to compete on equal terms with the 
merchants of other seaports. No doubt, when large and rapid 
gains rewarded his enterprise, many of his neighbors spoke 



" WITH BRAINS, SIR." 113 

depreciatingly of his " good luck ; " but we leave the reader to 
judge whether they were not rather the natural result of a 
policy of energy and perseverance. Mr. A. was equal to the 
opportunity. So was Bonaparte at the siege of Toulon, which 
proved the first stage in his wonderful career. So was Crom- 
well when, with his " Ironsides," he turned the tide of fight at 
Naseby Field. So was George Stephenson when he ran his 
locomotive successfully at Rainhill. When Archimedes ex- 
claimed, " Give me a resting-place, and with my lever I will 
move the world," he meant that all he wanted was the oppor- 
tunity. For opportunity is the fulcrum with which the lever of 
genius or industry moves the most formidable obstacles out of 
the adventurer's path. 

We pass on to another wise business maxim, and that is, 
" Never find fault with your tools." To do so is the unmis- 
takable sign of a bad workman. Talent adapts to its use any- 
thing that lies close at hand. A Faraday masters the arcana 
of electricity with an old bottle. A Sir Humphrey Davy eluci- 
dates the laws of chemistry with rude instruments of his own 
preparation. It is only the artistic fop, the literary " finic," 
the commercial amateur, who can do nothing without apparatus 
and appliances on the most splendid scale. Ferguson calcu- 
lated the distances of the stars with a handful of glass beads 
threaded on a string. Good tools, of course, are better than 
bad tools, but all depends on the dexterity of the hand that 
wields them. It is a noteworthy fact that the Elizabethan sea- 
men braved the terrors of the Arctic Sea as successfully in 
their tiny caravels, ill found, and badly manned, as the Vic- 
torian explorers in the best vessels that can be put afloat, with 
experienced crews, and all the auxiliaries that science can fur- 



1 1 4 B USINESS HABITS. 

nish. Many an amateur now-a-days has a studio, and easel, 
and pigments, and brushes very much superior to any that a 
Correggio or a Titian could command ; but what does he do 
with them ? " Pray, Mr. Opie," said a dapper young student 
to the famous painter, " what do you mix your colors with ? " 
" With brains, sir," was the significant reply. That went to 
the root of the matter ; the finest tools are useless without 
brains. 

James Watt's first model of the condensing steam-engine was 
made out of an anatomist's old and rusty syringe. The first 
brushes of Benjamin West were extracted from the cat's tail. 
Lindsay, the shipowner, gathered all his education from an old 
edition of the " Encyclopaedia Britannica." Thomas Edward, 
the Scotch naturalist, was an adept in the construction of cheap 
appliances. Dr. Wollaston's laboratory consisted of an old 
tea-tray, which contained a few watch-glasses, a blow-pipe, a 
small balance, and a dozen test-papers. With a sheet of paste- 
board, a lens, and a prism, Sir Isaac Newton discovered the 
composition of light and experimented on the origin of colors. 
Gifford solved his first mathematical problems by means of 
small scraps of leather which he beat smooth enough to be 
used as tablets. Dr. Black found out the secret of latent heat 
with a pan of water and a couple of thermometers. And 
George Stephenson mastered the rules of arithmetic with a bit 
of chalk on the grimy sides of the coal-wagons. 

We have spoken of self-control as essential to a man's success 
in life ; we must not omit to insist upon self-reliance. " Men," 
says Bacon, " seem neither to understand their riches nor their 
strength ; of the former they believe greater things than they 
should, of the latter much less. Self-reliance and self-control 



SELF-RELIANCE. 1 1 5 

will teach a man to drink out of his own cistern, and eat his 
own sweet bread, and to learn and labor truly to get his living, 
and carefully to expend the good things committed to his trust." 
The wealthy man is he who trusts only to his own energy, 
prudence and abilities. Such a man is always ready when he 
is wanted, always prompt, and calm, and fertile of resource ; 
while the man who trusts to others fears, or is unable, to move 
unsupported. Like Edward the Black Prince at Cressy, it is 
better to fight it out alone. A man is never so happy as when 
he is totu's in se j as when he suffices to himself, and can walk 
without crutches or a guide. Said Jean Paul, the glorious 
one : " I have made as much out of myself as could be made 
of the stuff, and no man should require more." No man will 
need more if he fall not into the thraldom of waiting for the 
help of others. Self-reliance, pushed, we admit, to the verge 
of self-conceit, was the distinctive quality of Benvenuto Cellini. 
He was a host in himself ; free, independent, courageous and 
assured. Wherever he went — and he wandered from town to 
town like a bird of passage, from Florence to Mantua, and 
Mantua to Rome, and Rome to Naples, and Naples back to 
Florence — he was always the same ; rich in expediency, ready 
in action, resolute in will. He made his own tools ; he not only 
designed his own works, but executed them with his own 
hands, hammering and carving, modelling and casting. Hence 
it is that we observe so strongly impressed a stamp of individu- 
ality on all that came from his hands. Not less self-reliant was 
the late illustrious French statesman, Thiers. He left nothing 
to others that he could do himself, and over all that he in- 
trusted to others he exercised the sharpest supervision. Such 
was his courage, such his composure, that, civilian as he was, 



1 1 6 B U SI NESS HABITS. 

he would have undertaken the command of an army in the 
field if he had thought it to be his duty. " In life," said Ary 
Scheffer, " nothing bears fruit except by labor of mind and 
body. To strive, and still strive — such is life ; and in this respect 
mine is fulfilled : for I dare to say, with just pride, that nothing 
has ever shaken my courage. With a strong soul, and a noble 
aim, one can do what one wills, morally speaking." And when 
it is done, when the victory is achieved, what joy one feels in 
the reflection that the honor is not to be shared with another ! 
To wait until some good Samaritan passes by, — to stand, 
with arms folded, sighing for a " helping hand," — is not the 
part of any manly mind. The habit of depending upon others 
should be vigorously resisted, since it tends to weaken the 
intellectual faculties and paralyze the judgment. The struggle 
with circumstance has, on the contrary, a bracing and strength- 
ening effect, like that of the pure mountain air on an enfeebled 
frame. It puts us, so to speak, into training ; it is like the 
wrestling of two athletes. All difficulties come to us, as Bun- 
yan says of temptations, like the lion which met Samson ; at 
the first encounter they roar and gnash their teeth, but once 
subdued, we find a comb of honey in them. There can be no 
victory where there has been no battle. It is peril which calls 
forth the highest qualities of a man. Hence Pythagoras said, 
" Ability and necessity dwell near each other." " He who has 
battled," says Carlyle, " were it only with poverty and hard 
toil, will be found stronger and more expert than he who could 
stay at home from the battle, concealed among the provision 
waggons, or even rest unwatchfully ' abiding by the stuff.' " 
We have need of an occasional failure to quicken our vigilance, 
sharpen our insight, and confirm our discretion. 



THE HILL OF DIFFICUL TV. 1 1 7 

To grow strong by suffering seems the mystery of life. 
Goodness itself is nothing unless proved by temptation. 
There is more joy in heaven over the sheep that returns to 
the fold after it has strayed afar, returns torn with briar and 
bramble, with wounded sides and bleeding feet, than over the 
ninety and nine who have never quitted the green pastures. 
Genius, in like manner, is developed and character tested by 
the rude sway of experience. It is up the Hill of Difficulty 
that the brave heart climbs to happiness or sorrow. The path 
of duty is not only steep but thorny ; and it is well for men 
that it should be so. Shelley tells us that " most wretched 
men" — meaning thereby the world's great singers — 

" Are cradled into poetry by wrong ; 
They learn in suffering what they teach in song." 

and we know that the crushed flower gives forth the rarest 
fragrance. It is not always true that sorrow loosens the fount 
of poetic inspiration ; but in many instances the highest powers 
of genius seem to have been evoked by disappointment, pain 
or trouble. It was not until his heart was overcharged with 
public sorrows and private grievances, until he had drunk the 
dregs of the cup of bitterness, that Dante composed his won- 
derful Christian epic. It was while the shadow of coming death 
brooded over him that Mozart wrote his immortal " Requiem." 
Everybody knows the anguish of passion which Tasso poured out 
in his " Gerusalemme Liberata." A profound sorrow inspired 
the "Lycidas" of Milton, the "Adonais" of Shelley, the "In Mem- 
moriam" of Tennyson. Let us not lose heart, then, when beset by 
difficulties, or sharply tried, or oppressed with failure ; for these 
things are designed to stimulate us to higher and purer effort, 
and to teach us the great and glorious lesson of self-reliance. 



1 1 8 B USINESS HABITS. 

This is a lesson which, now-a-days, is not taught in the 
schools. To us it seems the vice of modern systems of educa- 
tion that they lay down too many " royal roads to knowledge." 
Those impediments which formerly compelled the student to 
think and labor for himself are now most carefully removed, 
and he glides so smoothly along the well-beaten highway that 
he pauses not to heed the flowers on either hand. The race of 
thorough and complete scholars is dying out. Our young men 
are equipped to such an extent with manuals that explain every- 
thing, and guides that go everywhere, that they find no occasion 
for thought. Why spend an hour in grappling with an obscure 
passage when it is cleared up beautifully in an obliging " note " ? 
Why endeavor to comprehend the significance of an historical 
crisis when it is carefully brought out for you by the most con- 
descending of critics ? In a word, why take any trouble at all 
when so many are willing to relieve you of it ? When we leave 
school, and turn our attention to the literature of the day, we 
find it equally complacent and easy-going. It does not ask or 
expect us to do anything for ourselves, and we quickly become 
accustomed to this new " Castle of Indolence." As no demand 
is made upon our mental energy, we soon learn to believe that 
the slightest exertion is beyond our strength, and, smooth as 
the road is, insist that it shall be made smoother. " As the 
native in some parts of the world carries the traveller in a chair 
on his back over the mountains, so the teacher carries the pupil 
up the Alpine peaks of knowledge ; as the priest in Siberia puts 
his devotions into a mill, and grinds out prayers, so we expect 
our preacher to do our praying for us ; as the steam-whistle 
whisks us, asleep or awake, to the city or capital, so we expect 
the book over which we doze or snore to bear us to the metropo- 



BENJAMIN DISRAELI. II9 

lis of science." We go to a popular lecturer for our chemistry, 
to a popular preacher for our religion, to a popular newspaper 
for our politics. And when some stern moralist arises, and 
speaks earnestly of the dignity and honorableness of work, we 
yawn and murmur, "Yes, in others." Self-reliance has disap- 
peared before our indolent and luxurious selfishness. This is 
the secret of the mania for making money by speculative com- 
panies and stockjobbing ingenuities. Society wishes to save it- 
self trouble. It wants money, but does not want to work for it. 
Even its pleasures it takes with languid ease. If it goes to the 
theatres, it must not be asked to think. It is for ever crying 
with Tennyson's " Lotus Eaters " — 

" Hateful is the dark -blue sky, 
Vaulted o'er the dark -blue sea. 
Death is the end of life ; ah, why 
Should life all labor be ? 
Let us alone. Time driveth onward fast, 
And in a little while our lips are dumb. 
Let us alone. What is it that will last ? 
All things are taken from us, and become 
Portions and parcels of the dreadful Past. 
Let us alone. What pleasure can we have 
To war with evil ? Is there any peace 
In ever climbing up the climbing wave ? 
All things have rest, and ripen towards the grave 
In silence: ripen, fall, and cease, 
Give us long rest or death, dark death, or dreamful ease." 

The splendid success to which self-reliance sometimes con- 
ducts us we see in the career of Benjamin Disraeli, Earl of 
Beaconsfield, the attorney's clerk, who has risen to the post of 
Prime Minister of England. We have heard his achievements 
variously ascribed to his power of epigram, his audacity, his 
plasticity, his unscrupulousness ; but, for ourselves, we find their 
foundation in his frank and fearless reliance on himself. Such 
was the motive which animated the American orator and senator, 
J. C. Calhoun. When at Yale College, on being ridiculed for 



120 B USINE SS HA BITS. 

his passionate devotion to his studies, he replied, " Why, sir, I 
am forced to make the most of my time that I may acquit my- 
self creditable when in Congress." And when this saying was 
greeted with a laugh, he added, '* Do you doubt it ? I assure 
you, if I were not convinced of my ability to reach the national 
capital as a representative within the next three years, I would 
leave college this very day." He spoke in the true spirit of 
Goethe's famous advice, " Make good thy standing-place, and 
move the world." Be true to yourself, and what you will, that 
will you accomplish. " Our strength," remarks George Henry 
Lewes, " is measured by our plastic power. From the same 
materials one man builds palaces, another hovels ; one ware- 
houses, another villas : bricks and mortar are bricks and mortar 
until the architect makes them something else. Thus it is that 
in the same family, in the same circumstances, one man rears a 
stately edifice, while his brother, vacillating and incompetent, 
lives forever amid ruins. The block of granite which was an 
obstacle in the pathway of the weak becomes a stepping-stone 
in the pathway of the resolute." 

We should be encouraged to cultivate the habit of indepen- 
dent thought and independent action by the consideration that 
each one of us has his appointed mission and place in the 
world, and his work to do for himself and his fellow-men. He 
is the centre of a circle, large or small, of which he is the 
primary influence ; and that circle must accordingly react on 
another and wider circle, and that again on yet another, and 
so on through a succession of circles ; just as we see that the 
dropping of a stone in the water creates a series of waves 
which expand far away into the distance. A recent scientific 
discovery has shown how the very words we utter may be pre- 



RESPONSIBILITY. 1 2 1 

served in articulate sounds for the hearing of future genera- 
tions. But our acts, our conduct, our character, are trans- 
mitted in a still more living form. The thought is one which 
should " bid us pause ; " which should incite us to attain by 
our strenuous effort to a lofty standard of living and thinking. 
We cannot divest ourselves of our responsibility to our fellow- 
men. True it is that but few of us can spell-bind the world 
like a Shakespeare, a Milton, a Wordsworth, a Bacon. We 
cannot all of us control the destinies of nations like the Riche- 
lieus and the Pitts. We cannot all of us enlarge the domains 
of science like a Newton, a Cuvier, a Faraday. We cannot all 
of us create those things of beauty which fill the heart of human- 
ity with a perpetual joy, like a Raffaelle, a Titian, a Mozart, a 
Mendelssohn. But we can all of us do something to swell the 
sum of human happiness, to make the world better and purer 
than we found it. In our trade or profession we can set an ex- 
ample of honorable dealing and straightforwardness, punctuality, 
truthfulness and independence. " No man," said the late Sir 
Thomas Fowell Buxton, "ought to be convinced by anything 
short of assiduous and long-continued labors, issuing in absolute 
failure, that he is not meant to do much for the honor of God 
and the good of mankind." Such absolute failure, then, will 
never be, so long as we rely upon ourselves, and are alive to 
our duties and our obligations. 

A story from " real life " is always the must effectual illus- 
tration that can be adduced of a great truth. The following 
narrative of the early struggles towards independence of a 
wealthy Western florist and horticulturist is told almost in his 
own words. It seems to us replete with genuine interest : — 

On the west corner of Nassau and Liberty Streets, New 



122 B USINESS HABITS. 

York, lived a venerable old gentleman, one Isaac Van Hook, 
tor a period of fifty years. In course of time, a firm of cabinet- 
makers, carrying on a respectable business, and having in their 
employment ten or twelve journeymen and apprentices, took a 
mad resolution, gave up business, sold their stock, hired the 
corner-house over the head of poor Mr. Van Hook, turned him 
and his tobacco pipes out of doors, and entered upon the gro- 
cery business. "Theirs being a corner, I lost (says Mr. Thor- 
burn) most of my customers, insomuch that I was obliged to 
look around for some other mode of supporting my family. 
This, you may be sure, I considered a great misfortune ; but, 
in the sequel, it prepared the way for introducing me into a 
more agreeable and profitable business. 

"About this time the ladies in New York were beginning to 
show a taste for flowers, and it was customary to see flower- 
pots in the grocery stores ; these articles also formed part of 
my stock. 

"In the fall of the year, when the plants wanted shifting, 
preparatory to their being placed in the parlor, I was often 
asked for pots of a handsomer quality or better make. As 
already stated, I was looking round for some other means to 
support my family. All at once it came into my mind to take 
and paint some of my common flower-pots with green varnish 
paint, thinking it would better suit the taste of the ladies than 
the common brickbat-colored ones. I painted two pair, and 
exposed them in front of my window ; they soon drew atten- 
tion, and were sold. I painted six pair ; they soon went the 
same way. Being thus encouraged, I continued painting and 
selling to good advantage. This was in the fall of 1802. One 
day, in the month of April following, I observed a man, for 



MR. THORB URN'S VENTURE. 1 23 

the first time, selling flower plants in the Fish Market, which 
then stood at the foot of Maiden Lane. As I carelessly passed 
along, I took a leaf, and rubbing it between my finger and 
thumb, asked him what was the name of it. He answered, a 
geranium. This, as far as I can recollect, was the first time I 
ever heard that the flower in question was a geranium, as be- 
fore this, I had no taste for, nor paid any attention to plants. 
I looked a few minutes at the plant, thought it had a pleasant 
smell, and that it would look well if removed into one of my 
green flower-pots to stand on my counter and thus draw atten- 
tion. 

" Observe, I did not purchase this plant with the intention of 
selling it again, but merely to draw attention to my green pots, 
and let the people see how well the pots looked when the plant 
was in them. Next day some one fancied and purchased both 
plant and pot. The day following I went when the market was 
nearly over, judging the man would sell cheaper rather than 
have the trouble of carrying them over the river, as he lived at 
Brooklyn — and in those days there was neither steam nor horse- 
boats. Accordingly, I purchased two plants, and having sold 
them, I began to think that something might be done in this 
way ; and so I continued to go at the close of the market, and 
always bargained for the unsold plants. The man, finding me 
a useful customer, would assist me to carry them home, and 
show me how to shift the plants out of his pots and put them 
into the green-pots, if any customers wished it. I soon found, 
by his tongue, that he was a Scotchman, and being countrymen, 
we wrought into one another's hands [more Scotico\ and thus, 
from having one plant, in a short time I had fifty. The thing 
being a novelty, began to draw attention ; people carrying their 



1 24 B USINESS HABITS. 

country friends to see the curiosities of the city would step in 
to see my plants. In some of these visits the stranger would 
express a wish to have some of these plants, but, having so far 
to go, could not carry them. Then they would ask if I had no 
seed of such plants ; then, again, others would ask for cabbage, 
turnip, or radish seed, etc. These frequent inquiries at length 
set me thinking that, if I could get seeds, I would be able to 
sell them ; but here lay the difficulty. As no one sold seed in 
New York, none of the farmers or gardeners sowed more than 
what they wanted for their own use, there being no market for 
an overplus. In this dilemma I told my situation to the person 
from whom I had always bought the plants in the Fish Market. 
He said he was now raising seeds, with the intention of selling 
them next spring along with his plants in the market ; but 
added, that if I would take his seeds, he would quit the market, 
and stay at home and raise plants and seeds for me to sell. A 
bargain was immediately struck ; I purchased his stock of seeds, 
amounting to fifteen dollars, and thus commenced a business, 
on the 17th of September, 1805, that became the most extensive 
establishment of the kind in the Western world." 

The self-reliance, the rare mental qualities here displayed 
might, in a wider sphere, have raised this man to eminence. 

A narrative of a higher kind is presented to us in the story of 
the life of Thomas Brassey. 

Thomas Brassey, born in November, 1805, was the son of a 
gentleman farmer at Buerton, in Cheshire. At twelve years of 
age he was sent to school at Chester, and at sixteen was ap- 
prenticed to a land-surveyor and agent named Lawton. In this 
capacity he was first employed in surveying the line of the 
Shrewsbury and Holyhead road ; and his quickness and indus- 



THOMA S BRA SSE Y. 1 2 5 

try were so conspicuous, that at the conclusion of his appren- 
ticeship Mr. Lavvton received him as his partner, and placed 
him at the head of a branch business which he had established 
at Birkenhead. Much of the young partner's attention was here 
devoted to the manufacture of bricks ; and he invented a kind 
of crate to faciliate, and thereby cheapen, the labor of loading 
and unloading. In 1832 he married ; and soon afterwards, on 
the death of Mr. Lawton, became sole agent for Mr. Pine, the 
owner of the Birkenhead estate. Having made the acquain- 
tance of the celebrated George Stephenson, he so impressed 
the latter with a conviction of his admirable business qualities 
that he persuaded him to tender for the work on the Grand 
Junction Railway. This he did ; but his estimate being too 
high, he lost the contract. Nothing discouraged, he tendered 
again, and for the Penkridge Viaduct between Stafford and 
Wolverhampton was successful. He carried through his under- 
taking with great spirit and much thoroughness, giving indica- 
tions of those powers of organisation which he afterwards dis- 
played in so remarkable a degree. His wife urged him at once 
to give himself up wholly to railway work, her sound judgment 
convincing her that, if he left Birkenhead, he would be able to 
find a much more important sphere for the exercise of his 
special abilities by enlisting in the small band of men who had 
at that time taken in hand the construction of the British rail- 
ways. Acting upon her prudent advice, he thereupon became 
a contractor for public works on the most colossal scale. His 
enterprise spurned the insular limits of Great Britain. With 
ready boldness and self-reliance he undertook a number of most 
important engagements abroad ; in France, Italy, Denmark, 
Austria, in Australia. Canada, and even in India. A large in- 



1 26 B USINESS HABITS. 

dustrial army executed his bidding, and won peaceful triumphs 
in almost every land. 

Between his operatives and himself the most cordial feelings 
and goodwill existed ; and his conduct was so liberal, just, and 
considerate, that he fully merited the affection and esteem with 
which he was regarded, A certain share of the profits was 
always allotted to his agents, while he did all he could to fur- 
ther the extension of the " butty gang " system, by means of 
which a certain piece of work was let out to ten or fifteen men, 
the profits being equally divided, with a small extra profit to 
the head man in charge. His sub-contractors he treated with 
the greatest generosity and confidence, and they were always 
content to accept engagements on the terms he offered. They 
knew they could trust to him, of his own volition, to correct a 
mistake or remedy an injustice. If the original contract proved 
too hard a bargain for the sub-contractor, Mr. Brassey would 
always increase the price or make up the deficiency in some 
other way. Again, if a dispute arose between his agents and the 
engineers of the company for whom he was working as to the 
best mode of proceeding with the work, he had an admirable 
way of settling it. He would appear, perhaps unexpectedly, 
among the contending parties ; would not back up his own 
agents, or enter into vexatious contention with the engineers of 
the company, but would, in the presence of them all, take the 
" gangers " into council, and ask them what was their opinion 
on the matter. It was generally found that the gangers had a 
very clear opinion, and a very judicious one, of the way in 
which the work should proceed, and, at any rate, the disputing 
parties felt that the opinion of these men, with whom the man- 
ual execution of the work rested, was an opinion which it was 



THOMA S BRA SSE Y. 1 2 7 

very desirable to defer to and to conciliate. This mode of 
reference and unrefined arbitration was eminently characteris- 
tic of this great employer of labor. 

One gains a vivid idea of Mr. Brassey's admirable business 
qualities, of his vigor, administrative capacity, and confidence 
in himself, from a consideration of the numerous great under- 
takings he successfully carried out. Here is a partial list of 
them : — The Grand Trunk Railway of Canada, including the 
Victoria tubular bridge over the broad St. Lawrence ; the 
Caledonian Railway ; the Nantes and Caen, Maremma and 
Leghorn, Jutland, Warsaw and Terrespol, Kronprinz, Rudolf- 
stadt, and Suezama and Jassy railways. The Central Argen- 
tine, the Delhi, and the Indian Chord Line, are among the 
railways laid down under his superintendence. Then there 
were considerable contracts on the Scottish Central, Great 
Northern, Lancashire and Carlisle, North Staffordshire, Buck- 
inghamshire, North Devon, East Suffolk, Leicester and Hitchin, 
South Tilbury and Southend, Bury St. Edmunds and Cam- 
bridge, and Severn Valley. His energy was almost boundless. 
Mr. Harrison says of him : — " I have known him come direct 
from France to Rugby. Having left Havre the night before, 
he would have been engaged in the office in London the whole 
day ; he would then come down to Rugby by the mail train at 
twelve o'clock, and it was his common practice to be on the 
works by six o'clock the next morning. He would frequently 
walk from Rugby to Nuneaton, a distance of sixteen miles. 
Having arrived at Nuneaton in the afternoon, he would pro- 
ceed the same night bj r road to Tamworth, and the next morn- 
ing he would be out on the road so soon that he had the repu- 
tation among his staff of being the first man on the works. 



128 BUSINESS HABITS. 

He used to proceed over the works from Tamworth to Stafford, 
walking the greater part of the distance ; and he would fre- 
quently proceed that same evening to Lancaster, in order to 
inspect the works in progress under the contract which he had 
for the execution of the railway from Lancaster to Carlisle." 
It was said of him by one who rightly estimated the strength 
of his determination and his profound self-reliance : — " If he 
had been a parson, he would have been a bishop ; a prize- 
fighter, he would have won the champion's belt." And Sir 
Arthur Helps thus commemorates the singleness of purpose, 
the concentration of aim which marked his career : — " The 
ruling passion of his life was to execute great works which he 
believed to be of the highest utility to mankind : to become a 
celebrated man in so doing — celebrated for faithfulness, punc- 
tuality, and completeness in the execution of his work ; also — 
for this was a great point with him — to continue to give employ- 
ment to all those persons who had already embarked with him 
in his great enterprises, not by any means forgetting the hum- 
bler class of laborers whom he engaged in his service." 

It was characteristic of Mr. Brassey that he always found 
time for everything. He was never in a hurry and never be- 
hindhand. He wasted not a moment ; he never left a letter 
unanswered. When he visited Scotland in the shooting season, 
a bag containing writing appliances and a pile of letters that 
required acknowledgment always accompanied the luncheon- 
basket. He would enjoy a brisk short walk on the moor, and 
then, in the shelter of a shepherd's hut or screened by a stone 
dyke, would sit down and write his letters with his usual clear- 
ness and intelligence. Idleness was a thing utterly beyond his 
comprehension. In his own words : — " It requires a special 



MR. GRIGG. 129 

education to be idle, or to employ the twenty-four hours in a 
way without any particular calling or occupation. To live the 
life of a gentleman" — he would add, "one must have been brought 
up to it. It is impossible for a man who has been engaged in 
business pursuits the greater part of his life to retire ; if he does 
so, he soon discovers that he has made a mistake. I shall not 
retire ; but if for some good reason I should be obliged to do 
so, it would be to a farm. There I should bring up stock, 
which I should cause to be weighed every day, ascertaining, at 
the same time, their daily cost as against the increasing weight. 
I should then know when to sell, and start again with a fresh 
lot." 

Mr. Brassey died, worn out with work, in 1870. He was 
only sixty-five years of age, but, counted by deeds, his life had 
really been a long one, as it had unquestionably been both use- 
ful and honorable. 

Crossing the Atlantic, we meet with a representative man, 
who in some respects may be compared to Thomas Brassey, and 
was a no less striking example of what may be achieved by in- 
dustry when supported by self-reliance. We allude to Mr. 
Grigg of Philadelphia, the founder of a well-known American 
publishing firm. Beginning the world as an orphan boy, he 
died in possession of a fortune, though he had abundantly shown 
that he knew how to spend money wisely as well as to acquire 
it prudently. It is put forward as one strong explanation of 
his success, that he enjoyed a singular power of inspiring (what 
always proved a legitimate) conviction of his sincerity, honor, 
and ability. He himself was accustomed to say of the thorough 
business man, in words originally applied to a statesman, that 
" he should have in an eminent degree the self-sustaining power 



130 BUSINESS HABITS. 

of intellect. He must possess energy and enterprise, with per- 
severance and great mental determination. To inspire confi- 
dence, which after all is the highest of earthly qualities, is a 
mystical something, which is felt but cannot be described." 

The special qualifications necessary to success in trade, com- 
merce, and, we may add, professional life, are indicated in the 
advice which Mr. Grigg gave to young men. They were to be 
industrious and economical. They were warned against wast- 
ing time or money in small but useless pleasures and indul- 
gences. And here we may note that it is just these small bits 
of self-indulgence which wreck young lives. As to the unprofi- 
table expenditure of money, Mr. Grigg sagely remarks, that if 
the young could be induced to begin saving as soon as they 
entered on the paths of life, the way would ever become easier 
for them, and, without debarring themselves from the usual 
necessaries or comforts, they would not fail to attain a com- 
petency. "Our people," says an American writer, "are cer- 
tainly among the most improvident and extravagant on the face of 
the earth." Mr. Gladstone has recently pronounced the same 
verdict on the people of England. " It is enough to make the 
merchant of the old school, who looks back and thinks what 
economy, prudence, and discretion he had to bring to bear on 
his own business (they are, in fact, the basis of all successful 
enterprise), start back in astonishment to look at the reckless 
waste and extravagance of the age and people. The highest 
test of respectability is honest industry. Well-directed industry 
makes man happy [in a certain degree]. The really noble class, 
the class that was noble when 'Adam delved and Eve span,' 
and have preserved to this day their patent untarnished, is the 
laborious and industrious. Until men have learned industry, 



SELF-RELIA NCE. 1 3 1 

economy, and self-control, they cannot be safely intrusted with 
wealth." 

Certainly this is an age of unthrift. A profuse expenditure 
seems to be the curse of every class alike. The artisan is as 
recklessly lavish as the capitalist, and the collier indulges in 
luxuries which would formerly have been considered proper 
only for the most affluent. Whether there is a strain of extrava- 
gance in the English character we will not undertake to argue ; 
but it is noticeable that the sympathies of the people always go 
out towards the free-handed, towards the prodigality of George 
IV., rather than the soberness of George III., towards the spend- 
thrift Sheridan rather than the economical Wordsworth. Marl- 
borough's thriftiness has robbed him of much of his popularity, 
and Macaulay even exaggerates it into avarice, and bitterly cen- 
sures it as a mean and despicable vice. No doubt in England 
the virtue of economy is but lightly esteemed. 

To industry and economy, said Mr. Grigg, add self-reliance. 
Do not take too much advice. The man of business should 
keep at the helm and steer his own bark. In early life every 
man should be thought to think and act for himself, to rely on 
his own capacity, and, like Hal o' the Wynd in Scott's novel, 
to fight for his own hand. Unless a man is accustomed to trust 
to his own resources, his talents will never be fully developed ; 
he will never gain that quickness of perception, that prompti- 
tude of decision, that readiness of action, which are essential to 
the successful conduct of affairs. Had not Nelson been accus- 
tomed to confide in himself, the victory off Cape St. Vincent 
would have been shorn of half its glory. 

We have already enlarged upon the importance of punctu- 
ality. Mr. Grigg called it " the mother of confidence." He did 



132 B U SIN ESS HABITS. 

not think it enough for a merchant to fulfill his engagements, 
but what he undertook to do he must do at the exact time as 
well as in the way prescribed. The interdependence of mer- 
chants — and, indeed, of all men engaged in business — is so 
great, that their engagements, like a chain, which, according to 
the law of mechanics, is never stronger than in its weakest link, 
are more frequently broken through the weakness of others 
than their own. But a persistent fulfillment of obligations is 
not of the greatest importance, because it enables others to meet 
their engagements promptly ; it is also the most satisfactory 
evidence that our affairs are well ordered, our means all easy 
available, our force in battle array, and everything " ready for 
action." A man's business should be in as excellent " trim " as 
a Queen's ship. 

It was very good advice of Mr. Grigg that men should attend 
to the minutise of business, to small things as well as great, to 
details as well as outlines. An indifference to what are con- 
sidered trivialities is often considered a mark of genius. We 
are asked to admire pictures in which the lights and shades are 
" dashed in " with "a bold hand," and the laws of proportion 
and perspective plainly disregarded because not understood. 
We are told that this is an evidence of wealth of imagination 
and boldness of execution. We reply, that in no such way did 
Titian or Raffaelle work. Then, again, we are invited to praise 
the wild exuberance of poems like Walt Whitman's — poems 
without grace of form, exactness of expression, or harmony of 
diction. The free independent genius of the modern singer de- 
spises, we are told, the rules and conventionalities that fettered 
a Milton or a Wordsworth. But for our part, we prefer Milton 
and Wordsworth, with their sum of artistic completeness and 



SELFISHNESS. 1 3 3 

their happy attention to details. So in business, we like to see 
everything in its place, and we recommend the master to make 
sure that there is a place for everything. A young man should 
look upon capital, if he start with it, or as he may acquire it, 
simply as the tool with which he is to work, not as a substitute 
for industry. It is frequently the case that diligence in minor 
employments is the most successful introduction to great enter- 
prises. Napoleon was a studious sub-lieutenant of artillery 
before he burst on the world as the victor of the Bridge of 
Lodi. 

Again, beware of selfishness. Not only is it in itself the 
meanest of vices, but it is the parent of so many, and its off- 
spring are all so hateful ! It interferes both with the means and 
the end of acquisition ; makes money more difficult to acquire, 
and not worth having when it is acquired. It dulls the affections 
of the heart ; it cripples the powers of intellect. The egotist is 
a torment to himself, a nuisance to others. On the other hand, 
he who has thought for others is sure to make his own happi- 
ness. As Jeremy Bentham says, " The effort of beneficence 
may not benefit those for whom it was intended, but when wisely 
directed it must benefit the person from whom it emanates. 
Good and friendly conduct may meet with an unworthy and 
ungrateful return, but the absence of gratitude on the part of 
the receiver cannot destroy the self-approbation which recom- 
penses the giver, and we may scatter the seeds of courtesy and 
kindliness around us at so little expense. Some of them will 
inevitably fall on good ground, and grow up into benevolence 
in the minds of others, and all of them will bear fruit of happi- 
ness in the bosom whence they spring. Once blest are all the 
virtues always, twice blest sometimes." 



1 34 B USINESS HA BITS. 

Mr. Grigg's next head of counsel was " Accustom yourself 
to think vigorously." Mental capital, like pecuniary, must be 
well invested if a good return is desired — must be rightly ad- 
justed and rightly applied ; and to this end accurate, pains- 
taking, and continuous thought is absolutely necessary. 

Again, we must take advantage of everything, however re- 
mote in appearance, that has, or can have, any bearing upon 
success. The man of business should be continually on the 
watch for information, as greedy for knowledge and as alert 
in gathering it as Macaulay ; he should seize every idea that 
can possibly throw light upon his path ; he should be an at- 
tentive reader of books of a practical character, as well as a 
careful student of all useful, inspiring and elevating literature. 

" Lastly, never forget a favor," said Mr. Grigg, " for ingratitude 
is the basest trait of man's heart." This may seem a copybook 
maxim, but its truth cannot be disputed, though too frequently 
it is forgotten. It may be more convincing to some people 
that ingratitude does not pay. Men soon grow chary of helping 
a person who receives every favor as a matter of right, and 
shows himself utterly insensible to the kindness of the indi- 
vidual conferring it. The world has a very just and a very 
natural antipathy to the ungrateful. 

Such are the axioms of business morality which Mr. Grigg 
founded on a long experience. They may be commended to 
the reader for digestion and assimilation. 

We now resume our subject. We have spoken at some 
length of various qualities and habits which seemed to us 
indispensable to all who desire to take a worthy part in the 
life-battle ; but we have said nothing upon tact. Yet this is, 
perhaps, the one quality which is necessary to the successful 



TALENT AND TACT. 1 35 

action of all other good qualities. We have seen many fine 

opportunities wasted by men of estimable character and more 

than ordinary talent for want of tact. We have seen possible 

friends offended, influential patrons lost, through want of tact. 

We have seen a career of energy and perseverance spoiled by 

want of tact. We have seen tact win its way to the foremost 

places while talent lagged in the rear. " Talent," says an 

anonymous essayist, " talent is power ; tact is skill. Talent is 

weight ; tact is momentum. Talent knows what to do ; tact 

knows how to do it. Talent makes a man respectable ; tact 

makes him respected. Talent is wealth ; tact is ready money." 

Tact makes friends ; talent makes enemies. Tact knows the 

seasons when — 

" To take 
Occasion by the hand." 

Talent too often misses them. We don't know that we can 
easily define tact, that we can say in a few words exactly what 
it is. It is something more than manner, yet manner enters 
largely into it. It is a combination of quickness, firmness, 
readiness, good temper and facility. It is something which 
never offends, never excites jealousy, never provokes rivalry, 
never treads upon other people's toes. " Every fish has its 
fly," says a moralist ; " but even the right fly is not enough ; 
you must play it nicely at the right spot." And that is just 
what tact does. Tact is practical talent ; it is force of char- 
acter united to dexterity of action, and softened by ease of 
manner. Or perhaps we may call it insight guided by experi- 
ence. It detects a want, and at once supplies a remedy. It 
sees an opening and immediately profits by it. " For all the 
practical purposes of life," says the essayist already quoted, 
" tact carries it against talent ten to one. Talent has many a 



I36 B USINE SS HA BI TS. 

compliment from the bench, but tact touches fees from attor- 
neys and clients. Talent speaks learnedly and logically, tact 
triumphantly. Talent makes the world wonder that it gets on 
no faster ; tact excites astonishment that it gets on so fast. 
And the secret is, that it has no weight to carry ; it makes no 
false steps ; it loses no time ; it takes all times ; and by keep- 
ing its eye on the weathercock, is able to take advantage of 
every wind that blows." To paraphrase some lines of Em- 
erson's — 

" Tact clinches the bargain ; 

Tact wins in the fight, 
Gets the vote in the Senate 

Spite of Gladstone or Bright." 

What genius could do we know from the career of Lord 
Brougham ; what tact could accomplish, from the career of 
Lord Lyndhurst. We do not for one moment deny that genius 
is the higher and nobler gift ; but tact must not be despised, 
for it is often needed to render the work of genius available 
for mankind at large. The genius of the astronomer calcu- 
lates the motions of the heavenly bodies ; the tact of the pilot 
carries the richly laden argosy safely into harbor. Besides, 
genius is a rare endowment, while tact is, to some extent, the 
product of cultivation — that is, of observation, reflection and 
self-control. We are not at all sure that in the ordinary busi- 
ness of life tact has not done more than genius for the well- 
being of humanity. What is the use of being able to harness 
the coursers of the sun if you cannot drive your cart home 
from market safely ? Practical talent does so much to ease 
the working of the wheels of life, that only ungrateful igno- 
rance will presume to depreciate it. 

" The acme of all faculties," says a writer, " is common 



TACT. 137 

sense," and common sense is tact. We will not say, however, 
that it is the acme of all faculties. We prefer to say that it is 
the golden thread which should string them together. Whether 
wealth and honor are the sole objects a man should live for, 
we will not argue here ; but we agree with the assertion that 
these are won more often by men of action than by men of 
thought. " The secret of all success lies in being alive to what 
is going on around one ; in adjusting one's self to one's con- 
ditions ; in being sympathetic and receptive ; in knowing the 
wants of the time ; in saying to one's fellows what they want 
to hear or what they need to hear at the right moment ; in 
being the sum, the concretion, the result of the influences of 
the present time. It is not enough to do the right thing per se ; 
it must be done at the right time and place. Frederick the 
Great said of Joseph II, Emperor of Germany, that he always 
wanted to take the second step before he had taken the first. 
The world is full of such unpractical people, who fail because 
they refuse to recognize the thousand conditions which fence a 
man in, and are impatient to reach the goal without passing 
over the intermediate ground. It is not so often talent which 
the unsuccessful man lacks as tact." 

Names of individuals who would have done so much better 
for themselves and for their fellows had their tact been equal 
to their ability crowd upon our memory. We think of Gold- 
smith and of William Cobbett, of Dean Swift and of Haydon, 
and cannot repress a sigh. Each of us, in his own little circle, 
knows one or two instances. On the other hand, history is 
full of examples of what tact can accomplish ; of a Walpole 
peacefully establishing a dynasty, of a Talleyrand winning 
diplomatic triumphs against great odds, of a Leopold of Bel- 



I38 BUSINESS HABITS. 

gium consolidating a kingdom — all through tact. The virtues 
of the late Prince Consort never earned a generous recognition 
from the public during his lifetime because he was deficient in 
tact ; whereas it was the tact of Louis XIV that threw a 
glamour of popularity over the vices of his life and the errors 
of his government. The social success of the agents of the 
Roman Church has been largely owing to that tact which our 
blunter and less refined Anglicanism shrinks from cultivating. 
Yet its value in ecclesiastical affairs, as in all the transactions 
of life, was proved by the career of the late Bishop Wilberforce. 
Of tact may with justice be said, what a popular journalist 
has said of worldly wisdom (which, by the way, is something 
more selfish and much meaner than tact), that at one extreme 
it runs up into the art of governing, at the other descends to 
that of merely pleasing. " It is as indispensable to the Pre- 
mier in Parliament as to the Foreign-Office clerk in the salons" 
And here we may note that Lord Palmerston, in his later years, 
showed himself a perfect master of it. " Between these poles 
— between aims the loftiest and most trivial — is the proper and 
legitimate sphere for the exercise of knowledge of the world. 
A man may be said to possess it when he exhibits practical 
wisdom in all the minor relations of social life. As a guest, as 
a host, as a national creditor, as an income-tax payer, as a rail- 
way passenger, as the vendor or purchaser of a horse, he has 
functions and duties to perform. The way in which these are 
discharged makes the difference between the social simpleton 
and the worldling. The former will be perpetually coming to 
grief in one or the other of them. If he is entertaining, he 
will abuse the grandmother of the most influential man at his 
table." It was surely just such an one who, at the opera, 



TACT. 139 

observed to Lord North, " What an exceedingly ugly woman 
is seated in yonder box ! " "Yes," was the reply, "that is my 
wife ! " " Oh," stammered the confused simpleton, " I mean 
the lady next to her." " Ay," rejoined the imperturbable peer, 
that is my sister ! " To continue : " If he dines out, he will 
ask for fish twice, in spite of the waning proportions of the 
cod and the indignant glances of the lady of the house. As a 
contributor to the revenue, he will be always in arrears, and 
incurring the terrors of Somerset House. At a railway sta- 
tion, he will disturb the equanimity of the porters by a fussi- 
ness arising from a vague but awful regard of steam-power. 
In all dealings with horse-flesh he will be guided by the simple 
rule of buying in the dearest market and selling in the cheap- 
est. As a letter-writer, he shows characteristic naivete. There 
is a curious infelicity in his style. To a subordinate he will 
write with undue familiarity, or an air of ridiculous assump- 
tion ; to an equal with a smack of arrogance. The oddest 
rays of comfort will gleam across his letters of condolence, 
while his congratulations will partake of a somewhat funereal 
character. In addressing members of those world-wide fami- 
lies, he will not be particular as to the * y ' in Smyth, or the ' p ' 
in Thompson." 

And this is to be observed of tact, that it is as valuable in 
small things as in great, in private as in public spheres. In a 
large employer of labor, the head of a public department, the 
manager of a railway, the chief of a great mercantile concern^ 
tact is essential ; but it is scarcely less valuable, certainly not 
less useful, in the master of a school or the father of a family- 
In society its preciousness is always and everywhere felt. Tact 
and good-humor — and, of course, the two always go together — 



1 40 B U SI NESS HABITS. 

are the pillars which support the social fabric. For tact, to 
sum up our efforts at definition, is the art of not putting one's 
foot in it j and were there no professors of this art in our social 
circles, life would become a burden ! 

We have spoken of tact as if it were identical with practical 
talent ; and yet there is a difference between the two. The 
former will never be found without the latter ; but the latter 
may exist without the former. It was want of tact which led 
a person to say, when conversing with one of our Hanoverian 
kings — was it not George II ? — " Oh, how I long to see a 
coronation ! " But it was want of practical talent which in- 
duced Beethoven to send three hundred florins as the purchase- 
money of a few shirts and half-a-dozen pocket-handkerchiefs, 
and Goldsmith to attire himself in a pair of scarlet breeches 
when he called upon his bishop to state his intention of taking 
holy orders. 

The world has often wondered at the curious want of prac- 
tical talent, tact, common sense (call it what you will), exhi- 
bited by men of fine intellectual gifts. How many wise mor- 
alities have been expended upon the apparent anomaly of the 
genius which scales the heights of human knowledge, and 
renders them practicable to meaner minds, being utterly unable 
to manage the simplest business transactions with correctness ! 
Strange is it, they exclaim, that a Dryden, who could write 
vigorous poetry and eloquent prose, should be unable to keep 
out of debt ; that Adam Smith, who discoursed profoundly on 
" The Wealth of Nations," should fail in the management of his 
household. But a little reflection dissipates the astonishment. 
There is no neccessary connection between deep thinking and 
the practical talents that most readily discharge the duties of 



COLERIDGE. HI 

daily life. A philosopher, with eyes fixed on the stars, will 
often stumble in the pool at his feet, or wonder how " the calf 
went in at the augur-hole ! "* 

There is much truth in the observation that a man whose 
vision, if limited, is clear, is both more confident in himself 
and more direct in dealing with circumstances and with others, 
than a man with a wider horizon of thought, whose many- 
sided capacity discerns several courses and recognizes numer- 
ous objections. We are frequently meeting with cases like 
that of Coleridge or De Quincey, whose subtle intellectual per- 
ceptions and rare imaginative powers are comparatively nulli- 

* We must explain this allusion in a note. The owner of a tanyard near 
a certain town in Virginia, resolved to erect a stand or store in one of the 
main streets for the sale of leather, the purchase of raw hides, and similar 
operations. After his building was completed, he began to consider what 
manner of sign it would be best to put up for the purpose of drawing the 
public attention to this new establishment ; and for days and weeks the 
subject puzzled him mightily. Several devices were, one after the other, 
adopted, and on further consideration rejected. At last he hit upon a 
happy idea. He bored an augur. hole through a door-post, and stuck a 
calf's tail into it, with the bushy end projecting. After a while a grave- 
browed individual with spectacles on nose might be seen standing near 
the door gazing intently on the sign. And there he continued to stand, 
absorbed, contemplative, silent, gazing and gazing until the hide-dealer's 
curiosity was greatly excited in turn. Stepping out, he addressed the indi- 
vidual. 

" Good morning," said he. 

" Morning ! " said the other, still intently regarding the sign. 

11 You want to buy leather? " inquired the storekeeper. 

" No." 

" Do you want to sell hides ? " 

"No." 

1 ' Perhaps you are a fanner ? " 

"No." 

" A merchant, maybe ? " 

"No." 

" Are you a doctor ? " 

"No." 

" What are you then ? " 

"I'm a philosopher. I have been standing here for an hour, trying to 
see if I could ascertain how that calf got through that augur-hole ! " 

_ Many are the philosophers in this world who waste their time and ener- 
gies in speculations of equal vanity, and are as easily deluded ! 



1 42 B U SI NESS HABITS. 

fied by a want of energy, self-command, practical talent. 
Coleridge's life, for instance, was like his own " Kubla-Khan " 
— beautiful, but incomplete and dreamy. Genius conceives 
the idea, but it is practical talent that realizes it. Strength of 
will often accomplishes what genius is forced to leave undone. 
Thoughtful brains puzzle themselves to loosen the Gordian 
knot ; Alexander draws his sword and cuts it. " Men of gen- 
ius," says Malthus, "waste time in meditating and comparing, 
when they should act instantaneously and with power." They 
put microscopes to their eyes, and cannot drink for fear of the 
animalcules. In short, they theorize too much. A loaf baked 
is better than a harvest contemplated. An acre in Kent or 
Surrey is better than a principality in Utopia. Genius, to be 
practically useful, says the author of "Lacon," must be en- 
dowed not only with wings whereby to fly, but with legs where- 
on to stand. Both practical and speculative ability are, no 
doubt, modifications of mental power ; but one on that account 
by no means implies the other, any more than dexterity in per- 
forming a juggler's feats involves the art of reefing a sail ; 
though they are both instances of physical skill. 

Practical talent is, of course, in business the special desider- 
atum. Such men as the Browns, the Cunards, the Armitages, 
the Bairds, the Burnses, the Barings, the Gurneys, have owed 
everything to their possession of this rare quality. Tact with 
them has been the secret of success. A thorough acquaint- 
ance with details, a vigilant eye for difficulties, a ready skill 
for dealing with them, these characteristics may be traced in 
all our famous " merchant adventurers," the men who have 
made and maintained the commerce of England. It was said 
of A. T. Stewart, the American millionaire, that so exact was 



STABILITY. 1 43 

his comprehension of all the departments of his immense busi- 
ness, that his employes sometimes imagined he must have an 
invisible telegraph girdling the entire establishment. Like a 
spider in his web, lie was keenly alive to the minutest incident 
that occurred within its precincts. He was seldom seen, yet 
his presence was everywhere felt, and his practical talent 
ensured the regular working of all that vast organization. So, 
too, practical talent was the peculiar endowment of Welling- 
ton. It was visible in all his movements in the Peninsula ; and 
it proved to be the foundation on which was securely raised 
the fabric of his renown. 

From any summary of business qualities and habits, how- 
ever rapid, it is impossible to omit decision. It follows, of 
course, from self-reliance as light from the presence of the 
sun. The man with just confidence in himself and a lofty 
independence of external influences, who sees clearly and 
thinks clearly, will necessarily decide promptly. And of all 
wretched characters the man " who can never make up his 
mind " is the most wretched. A torment to himself, he is the 
reproach and laughter of others, who frequently suffer in no 
small degree from his hesitation, decay and fickleness. There 
can scarcely be any more fatal censure passed upon a man 
than that implied in the Patriarch's apostrophe to his son : 
" Unstable as water, thou shalt not excel." The very promise 
of well-doing must be denied to the waverer. History has 
recorded the evils inflicted on two nations by the instability of 
James I. of England and VI. of Scotland ; and many of us 
have read with appreciation the anecdote of the criticism so 
aptly passed upon him by his chaplain, who, when ordered to 
preach before the king, read as his text, with emphatic signifi- 



144 BUSINESS HABITS. 

cance, " yames i. and 6ih — ' He that wavereth is like a wave 
of the sea driven with the wind and tossed,' " provoking from 
the self-conscious monarch the exclamation, " Saul o' my body, 
he is at me already ! " That " dauntless temper of the mind " 
of which Shakespeare speaks is, however, as precious in the 
lowliest individual as in kings. Wordsworth recognises it as 
part and parcel of the character of his Happy Warrior — 

. " Who, with a natural instinct to discern 

"What knowledge can perform, is diligent to learn ; 

Abides by this resolve, and stops not there, 

But makes his moral being his prime care. . . . 

Who, if he be called upon to face 

Some awful moment to which Heaven has joined 

Great issues, good or bad for human kind, 

Is happy as a lover ; and attired 

With sudden brightness, like a man inspired ; 

And through the heat of conflict keeps the law 

In calmness made, and sees what he foresaw ; 

Or if an unexpected call succeed, 

Come when it will, is equal to the need." 

It is, indeed, a primary qualification for a successful warrior 
that he should be able to come to instant decision when great 
perils or great opportunities arise ; and for all of us it is a 
good thing if we know how (in the world's homely language) 
to " keep our wits about us.' Men with this habit of decisive 
action instantly come to the front in sudden emergencies. We 
have seen a crowd collected by an accident, and every one 
staring helplessly, chattering confusedly, unable to assist a 
sufferer or remedy a mishap, when suddenly a person of calm 
demeanor forces his way through the press, comprehends all 
the bearings of the situation at a glance, decides in a moment 
what can or should be done, and unhesitatingly proceeds to do 
it. What a relief is afforded by the appearance of such a one ! 
How instantaneously everybody acknowledges and yields to 



DECISION. 145 

the master-spirit ! It is men of this stamp who, when a 
ship is wrecked, inspire the crew, comfort the passengers, 
prevent disorder, lower the boats, and carry them ashore. 
It is men of this stamp who, when the battle is lost, rally 
the fugitives and cover the retreat of the broken army. 
It is such men who, when a city is besieged, stimulate the 
spirits of their fellow-citizens, devise measures for the dis- 
comfiture of the enemy, and maintain the defence so long 
as there is hope of a prosperous issue. It was men of this 
stamp who, when surprised by the sudden outbreak of the 
Indian Mutiny, saved India for England, by calmly meeting 
danger wherever it arose, never flinching, never off their guard, 
never at a loss for expedients, never paralysed by fear or hesi- 
tation. Such men, happily, England has always bred in great 
numbers, or her history would have been written in less glor- 
ious and enduring characters. 

It may not be denied, perhaps, that decision is to some extent 
a physical quality ; that, though a moral power in itself, it is 
closely connected with physical peculiarities of temperament. 
But so much might be said perhaps of all or of most of our vir- 
tues. The mind cannot release itself entirely from the influ- 
ences of the body. A fit of indigestion may shake the firmest 
will, as it shook Napoleon's before the battle of Borodino, and 
prevented him from marshalling and moving his forces with his 
customary decisiveness. John Foster, in his well-known essay 
on " Decision of Character," goes so far as to say that, if we 
could trace the histories of all the persons remarkable for strength 
of will and force of purpose, we should find that the majority 
were gifted with great constitutional firmness. If such were 



I46 BUSINESS HABITS. 

the case, we should think it useless to insist upon the value of 
" decision of character " in these pages. But we believe that, 
though often inherited or innate, it is also a product of cultiva- 
tion ; and that a man, constitutionally subject to feebleness or 
lassitude, may, by diligently watching himself, by carefully 
guarding against every sign of hesitation or uncertainty, and 
devout submission to the will of God, prevail over the weakness 
of the flesh. It has been said that every man has " the germ of 
this quality," and we believe it to be as susceptible of cultivation 
as the germ of any other quality ; that it is as easy to cultivate 
a habit of decision as a habit of industry, and as easy to keep a 
resolution as to break it. We are much too prone to shift the 
burden from our own shoulders to those of nature ; to comfort 
ourselves with the consolatory idea that the irresolution which 
springs from indolence and want of thought is due to " physical 
peculiarities of temperament." Let no man lay that flattering 
but dangerous unction to his soul. To educate one's self up 
to a just decision of character is part of that moral and mental 
training which constitutes the chief work of life, by which alone 
one can attain to "the stature of the perfect man." 

So important to us seems the habit of decision of character, 
that we are quite prepared to risk the chance of an occasional 
premature act or judgment. It can do no more harm for a man 
to decide wrongly than never to decide at all. He must be 
hopelessly crazed in intellect and awry in morals if his decisions 
be invariably erroneous. But as decision of character almost 
necessarily implies accuracy of perception and clearness of 
reasoning, there is little fear that it will ever lead to ill conclu- 
sions. It must not be confounded with obstinacy, which, in- 
deed, is the vice of a feeble rather than of a strong character. 



NECESSITY OF PROMPT DECISION. 1 47 

The man of decision will know when to yield, and will yield 
promptly ; the obstinate man adheres to his standpoint whether 
it be right or wrong. Obstinacy is the natural refuge of the 
timid. It is the legitimate offspring of doubt and indecision. 
True firmness will be as swift to concede as strong to persist in 
the interests of truth and justice. 

In his quaintly humorous way, Sydney Smith formulated 
much sound advice when he said, " In order to do anything in 
this world that is worth doing, we must not stand shivering on 
the bank, thinking of the cold and the danger, but jump in and 
scramble through as well as we can. It will not do to be per- 
petually calculating and adjusting nice chances ; it did all very 
well before the Flood, when a man could consult his friends 
upon an intended publication for a hundred and fifty years, 
and then live to see its success for six or seven centuries after- 
wards ; but at present a man doubts, and waits, and hesitates, 
and consults his brother, and his uncle, and his first cousins, 
and his particular friends, till one day he finds that he is sixty- 
five years of age — that he has lost so much time in consulting 
first cousins and particular friends, that he has no time left to 
follow their advice." A young man will often be saved from 
grave misfortunes by the power of thinking and acting decisively; 
of "putting his foot down," when a false step might be the 
prelude to the facilis descensus Averni. It is told of a certain 
king of Macedon that in the thick of the fight he retired to a 
neighboring city on the excuse of sacrificing to Hercules. His 
adversary, Emilius, likewise implored the help of the gods, but 
at the same time plunged into the fray, sword in hand, and won 
the laurels of victory. When, at Areola, Napoleon saw the tide 
of battle ebbing, he decided on a dashing stroke ; summoned 



I48 B USINE SS HA Bl TS. 

five-and-twenty troopers to his side, gave each a trumpet, and 
executed a sudden onset that scattered the enemy like chaff. 

The career of Napoleon, by the way, furnishes numerous re- 
markable illustrations of what may be achieved by decision of 
character. In his famous campaign in Italy he had despatched 
a force of 10,000 men to capture Mantua and complete the 
conquest of Lombardy ; but a clever strategic movement of the 
Austrian army, 60,000 strong, placed him in a position of great 
danger. The Austrians advanced along both shores of the 
Lago di Garda, with the view of cutting off his retreat to Milan. 
Napoleon at once decided on posting himself at the end of the 
lake, so as to interpose between the two divisions, when they 
should seek to effect a junction. By a rapid concentration, he 
hoped to overwhelm the division (20,000 strong) which had 
turned the lake, and then turn rapidly and fall upon the 40,000 
who had denied between the lake and the Adige. But to oc- 
cupy the extremity of the lake, it was necessary to call in all 
his troops from the Lower Adige and the Lower Mincio, to 
withdraw Augureau, one of his lieutenants, from Legagno, and 
Serrurier, another, from Mantua, as so extensive a line was no 
longer tenable. This involved a considerable sacrifice, for 
Mantua had been besieged during two months ; a considerable 
battering-train had been transported before it, the fortress was 
on the point of surrendering, and by allowing it to be re- 
victualled, he would lose the fruits of his vigorous efforts, an 
almost assured prey. Napoleon, however, was not given to 
hesitate. Of two important objects he had the sagacity to de- 
tect and seize the more important, and sacrifice the other to it 
— a resolution simple in itself, but exhibiting the great captain 
and the great man. Not in war merely, but in politics and all 



NAPOLEON. 149 

the affairs of life, if men encounter two objects, and seek to 
compass both, they will fail in each. Bonaparte possessed that 
rare and decisive vigor which prompts at once the choice and 
the sacrifice. Had he persisted in guarding the whole course 
of the Mincio, from the extremity of the Lago di Garda to 
Mantua, his line would have been pierced ; while if he had 
concentrated upon Mantua to cover it, he would have been re- 
quired to cope with 70,000 men at once — with 60,000 in the 
front, and 10,000 in the rear. Abandoning Mantua, he ac- 
cumulated his forces at the point of the Lago di Garda, and 
with all the success he had anticipated. Striking first at the 
corps of 20,000 under Quasdanovitch, he drove back its van- 
guard ; whereupon the Austrian general, surprised to find in 
his front the formidable columns of the French, was induced to 
halt until he could gain information of the other Austrian corps 
under his commander, Marshal Wurmser. Detecting what was 
passing in Quasdanovitch's mind, Napoleon contented himself 
with having checked his advance, and turned to meet Wurmser. 
But Wurmser with half his corps had marched on to relieve 
Mantua, leaving 20,000 behind under Bayulitsch. The latter, 
with an extended line, pushed forward to surround the French. 
Napoleon, however, perceived the weakness of its centre, aimed 
at it a crushing blow, and compelled it to retreat. A rapid 
pursuit completed its discomfiture ; and in a week from the be- 
ginning of hostilities, the Austrian commanders, dispirited and 
baffled, were falling back in confusion to the Tyrol, having lost 
10,000 men, and abandoned the Lombard Kingdom to the 
brilliant arms of the young French general. In this remark- 
able campaign, Napoleon's decision of character was not less 
evident than his military genius. As Wellington afterwards 



150 BUSINESS HABITS. 

said of him, there was no general in whose presence it was so 
dangerous to make a mistake. He saw it immediately, and im- 
mediately profited by it. 

Dr. Chalmers used to say that, in the dynamics of human 
affairs, two qualities were essential to greatness ; power and 
promptitude. One man might possess both, another power 
without promptitude, a third promptitude without power. In 
alluding to this utterance, Dr. John Brown remarks that we 
must all feel its common sense, and can readily see how it ap- 
plies to a general in the field, to a pilot in the storm, to a 
sportsman, to a fencer, to a debater. It is the same, he adds, 
with an operating surgeon at all times, and may be at any time 
with the practitioner of the art of healing. He must be 
ready for every emergency ; he must have power and prompti- 
tude. 

" It is a curious condition," says Dr. Brown, " that this re- 
quires ; it is like sleeping with your pistol under your pillow, 
and it on full cock — a moment lost, and all may be lost There 
is the very nick of time. This is what we mean by presence of 
mind ; by a man having such a subject at his finger-ends ; that 
part of the mind lying nearest the outer world, and having to 
act on it through the bodily organs, through the will — the out- 
posts must be always awake. It is of course, so to speak, only 
a portion of the mind that is thus needed and made available. 
If the whole mind were for ever at the advanced post, it would 
soon lose itself in this endeavor to keep it. . . . Your men of 
promptitude without genius or power, including knowledge and 
will, present the wedge the wrong way. Thus, your extremely 
prompt people are often doing the wrong thing, which is almost 
always worse than nothing. . . . We must have just enough 



EXAMPLES. 151 

of the right knowledge and no more ; we must have the habit 
of using this , we must have self-reliance, and the consent- 
aneousness of the entire mind ; and whatsoever our hands find 
to do, we must do it with our might." 

Dr. Brown supplies two or three striking instances of that 
presence of mind which is a necessary part of or a corollary to 
decision of character. 

A lady was seated on her lawn, her children around her, 
when a mad dog made his appearance, pursued by peasants. 
What did she do ? Reader, what would you have done ? Shut 
your eyes and think. She went straight to the dog, received 
his head in her thick stuff gown between her knees, and muff- 
ling it up, held it there stoutly until assistance came. No one 
was hurt. Of course, when all were saved, the heroic woman 
fainted. 

" I once saw a great surgeon," says Dr. Brown, " after set- 
tling a particular procedure as to a life-and-death operation, as 
a general settles his order of battle. He began his work, and 
at the second cut altered the entire conduct of the operation. 
No one not in the secret could have told this — not a moment's 
pause, not a quiver of the face, not a look of doubt. This is 
the same master-power in arms which makes the difference 
between Sir John Moore and Sir John Cope." 

Yet another instance : — 

" Mrs. Major Robertson, a woman of slight make, great 
beauty, and remarkable energy, courage and sense, on going 
up to her bedroom at night — there being no one in the house 
but a servant girl in the ground-floor — saw a portion of a man's 
foot projecting from under the bed. She gave no cry of alarm, 
but shut the door as usual, set down her candle, and began as 



152 B U SI NESS HABITS. 

if to undress, when she said aloud to herself, with an impatient 
tone and gesture, ' I've forgotten that key again, I declare ;' 
and leaving the candle burning and the door open, she went 
downstairs, got the watchman, and secured the proprietor of 
the foot, which had not moved an inch. How many women 
or men could have done, or rather have borne, all this ? " 

When Sir Colin Campbell was asked how long it would take 
him to prepare for his voyage to India, on his appointment to 
command the British army engaged in the suppression of the 
Indian mutiny, he answered, " Twenty-four hours." So, too, 
Ledyard, the African traveller, to the inquiry when he would 
be ready to start for Africa, replied, " To-morrow morning." 
This is the promptitude of true decision. Livingstone, in one 
of his African excursions, was suddenly confronted by a tiger. 
Without a moment's hesitation he threw up his arms, and gave 
a loud shout ; the startled animal turned tail and took to flight. 
Glancing at a less romantic sphere of incident, we meet with 
an example of decision in the career of George Moore, the 
London merchant-prince. In early life he " travelled " for the 
firm of Fisher & Co., lace-dealers, and by his bonhomie and 
readiness soon formed a large connection. So signal was his 
success in pushing his employers' business, that in the " com- 
mercial rooms" of the inns which he frequented he was re- 
garded as a kind of hero. A young " traveller," who had just 
entered the Northern circuit, arrived at the Star Hotel, Man- 
chester, while about a dozen " travellers" were assisting George 
Moore to pack up his goods. " Who is that young fellow they 
are making such a fuss about ?" " Oh, it's George ! " " And 
who's George ? " " What ! Don't you know the Napoleon of 
Watling Street ? Let me introduce you ! " He deserved this 



EARL OF CHA THAM. I 5 3 

flattering appellation. On one occasion he visited Manchester, 
and, after unpacking his goods, called upon his first customer. 
From him he learned that the agent of a rival house had 
reached the town on the previous day, and intended to remain 
for a day or two more. " Then," said Moore, " it's of no use 
wasting my time here with my competitor before me." Re- 
turning to his hotel, he called some of his friends to help him 
in repacking his stock, drove off to Liverpool, began business 
next day, and secured the greater part of the orders before his 
opponent's arrival. 

His employers next sent him to Ireland, to revive their busi- 
ness there. In Dublin he set to work " in right good earnest." 
" He had now," to use his own words, " a great confidence in 
himself," and he resolved to make Fisher's name carry all 
before it. He toiled and moiled from morn till night. He 
was up in the morning early, called upon his customers during 
the day, packed up his goods in the evening, and set off by the 
night-coach for the next town upon his route. For successive 
weeks the only sleep he secured was on the outside of a coach, 
but at least it was sound sleep. 

In the political world we find a remarkable example of 
decision of character in the great Earl of Chatham. He 
formed his plans with promptitude ; he executed them with 
energy. Such was his vigor and such his intellectual stress, 
that he communicated something of his own nature to his 
subordinates. Colonel Barre said of him that no one ever 
spent five minutes with him in his closet without leaving it 
braver than he entered it. With him, to design was to accom- 
plish. A striking contrast is presented by Sir James Mackin- 
tosh, whom the late Lord Dalling, in his brilliant " Historical 



1 54 B USINESS HABITS. 

Characters," has appropriately designated " The Man of 
Promise." A man of great abilities and lofty aspirations, he 
accomplished little. His life is a sad record of unfulfilled 
projects. He was always meditating action and never begin- 
ning. He could not make up his mind to bend the bow even 
when he had fixed his arrow. No man knew better how to 
hit the right nail on the head, but he could never persuade 
himself to lift the hammer, or, if he did so, he wavered in the 
very act of striking, and hence the blow failed of its effect, 
became nothing better than a coup manque. At college he 
alternated between politics and philosophy. When studying 
medicine at Edinburgh, he gave up two-thirds of his time to 
poetry at home and elocution at a debating club. At last, 
having passed his examinations, when necessity compelled 
him, he made an effort to establish himself, first at Salisbury 
and next at Weymouth ; but failing to secure a large practice, 
he withdrew in disgust to Brussels. Politics then attracted his 
attention, and he won a sudden reputation by his " Vindicias 
Gallicae," written in reply to Edmund Burke's denunciation of 
the French Revolution. Leaving the legal profession, he 
created quite a furore by his lectures on Public Law at Lin- 
coln's Inn, and his defence of M. Peltier, accused of plotting 
against the life of Napoleon. For a while he held the office of 
the Recordership of Bombay. Then, returning to England, 
and coming to the conclusion that " it was time to do some- 
thing decided," he entered Parliament, where he made several 
successful speeches. This career did not satisfy him, and he 
accepted at the same time a professorship at Haileybury Col- 
lege, " alike unable to commit himself to the great stream of 
public life, or to avoid lingering on its shores." He projected 



SIR JAMES MA CKINTOSH. I 5 5 

a grand historical work and a system of " Morals." neither of 
which ever became more than an outline ; and, finally, when 
the shadows of old age were already darkening over his wan- 
dering path, he set to work with some degree of industry, and 
actually produced two or three minor compositions, which, if 
not unworthy of a place in English literature, are by no means 
such as might have been expected from his unquestionable 
powers. Thus genius and scholarship were neutralized by 
want of decision. The stream was copious, but wasted itself 
in wide shallows because not confined to any definite channel. 
" No man," says Lord Dalling, " doing so little, ever went 
through a long life continually creating the belief that he 
would ultimately do so much." His career was one long com- 
mentary on John Foster's emphatic words : — " A man without 
decision can never be said to belong to himself ; since, if he 
dared to assert that he did, the puny force of some cause, 
about as powerful you would have supposed as a spider, may 
make a seizure of the unhappy boaster the very next moment, 
and contemptuously exhibit the futility of the determinations 
by which he was to have proved the independence of his under- 
standing and will. He belongs to whatever can make captive 
of him ; and one thing after another vindicates its right to 
him, by arresting him while he is trying to go on ; as twigs and 
chips floating near the edge of a river are intercepted by every 
weed, and whirled in every little eddy. Having concluded on 
a design, he may pledge himself to accomplish it, if the hun- 
dred diversities of feeling which may come within the work 
will let him. His character precluding all foresight of his con- 
duct, he may sit and wonder what form and direction his views 
and actions are destined to take to-morrow ; as a farmer has 



156 B U SIN ESS HABITS. 

often to acknowledge that next day's proceedings are often at 
the disposal of its winds and clouds." 

We agree with an essayist already quoted, that it is the want 
of this promptness and decision of character, of this capacity 
of sticking like a burr to a particular object, of this readiness 
to grapple with an emergency as it arises, which causes so many 
pitiable failures in life. Wise men there are as well as fools 
who never succeed, because they cannot decide upon anything. 
They see so many courses that they cannot pitch upon one ; 
or their timid vision conjures up so many obstacles, or their 
vagrant fancy makes excursions in so many different directions, 
that they can never get a step in advance. Either their intel- 
lect is so fluid and plastic as to run to waste in a thousand 
moulds and grooves, or their understanding is of that dilatory, 
uncertain kind which affords a man just light enough to see the 
dangers before him, but not the way out of them. " Force of 
character " is to them an enigma ; " decision," a word the 
meaning of which they utterly miss. Of such men it has been 
pithily said that they have no backbone, nothing more than a 
sham vertebral column, made of india-rubber, and absolutely 
incapable of rigidity. Voltaire said of La Harpe that he was an 
oven which was always heating up, but never cooked anything. 
Those feeble, irresolute creatures who let " I dare not " wait 
upon " I would," are like inexpert oarsmen who beat about and 
splash the water, but never move their boat ahead. They are 
always balancing probabilities. These are the men who sacri- 
fice themselves on the shrine of proverbial philosophy, and 
seek an excuse for their vacillations in such bugbear maxims as 
" A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush," which is not 
true if the " two in the bush " can be easily transferred to the 



"SO RESOLUTE OE WILL." I $7 

hand. We recommend to them the poet's beautiful apologue, 

in which he speaks of the two chief moments in the diver's life. 

and symbolizes the occasions that befall every brave, adventur 

ous soul : — 

" One, when a beggar, he prepares to plunge ; 
One, when a prince, he rises with his pearl." 

Unless we make the plunge with swift decisive stroke, the 

pearl will never be ours. 

*' Thou wert a daily lesson 

Of courage, hope, and faith ; 
We wondered at thee living, 
We envy thee thy death. 

" Thou wert so meek and reverent, 
So resolute of will, 
So bold to bear the uttermost, 
And yet so calm and still." 

These lines were written by George Wilson, of Edinburgh, in 
memory of his friend, Dr. Reid ; but it has been well said that 
they apply with peculiar force to his own career ; a career 
which we proceed to sketch very briefly, because it seems to 
us a remarkable illustration of what may be done by a man who 
is in earnest, who knows his own mind, and acts upon it. 

George Wilson was born in Edinburgh in 1818. Educated 
at the High School, he left it when fifteen years old, and ap- 
plied himself with all the energy of his nature to the study of 
medicine, and more particularly of chemistry. Weakness of 
constitution had already showed itself, but had no effect upon 
his intellectual ardor. " I don't think I shall live long," he said 
in his seventeenth year ; " my mind will, must work itself out, 
and the body will soon follow it." If his life were to be a short 
one, he was determined to cram into it work enough, and he 
read and wrote and thought "while it was yet day." 



158 B U SI NESS HABITS. 

After some practice in the laboratory of Dr. Graham, he took 
the degree of M.D., and became a lecturer on chemistry, the 
freshness of his style and the originality of his method speedily 
drawing round him a large circle of pupils. In one of his 
vacations he went on a long twenty-four mile walk in the 
Perthshire Highlands, but meeting with an injury to his foot, 
returned to Edinburgh seriously ill. An abscess formed, and 
the result was a disease in the ankle-joint, requiring partial am- 
putation of the foot. Physical pain, however, could not stay 
his energetic course. With wonderful courage he continued 
his public lectures — dictating them when he could not write — 
and his private studies. He was next afflicted with rheuma- 
tism and inflammation of the eye, which were treated by the 
administration of colchicum, cupping, and blistering. Tor- 
tured and pained both day and night, he could obtain snatches 
of sleep only through the influence of morphia. His condition 
was rendered more serious by symptoms of pulmonary disease, 
but he still continued to give his weekly lectures. Returning 
home from these, he would exclaim, " Well, there's another 
nail put into my coffin ; " but he had pledged himself to the 
public, and nothing could induce him to shrink from what he 
conceived to be a duty. 

Work — work — work ! His body victimised by setons and 
blisters, he persevered in his daily labors. He knew that he 
was approaching the end, and to a dear friend he wrote, " Don't 
be surprised if any morning at breakfast you hear I am gone." 
This was said in no mood of morbid sentimentalism, for never 
was there a blither, happier spirit, nor one more confident and 
hopeful. He did not groan or complain, even when the weak- 
ness caused by loss of blood from the lungs compelled a brief 



GEORGE WILSON I 59 

interval of rest ; but, after a few weeks' change of air, returned 
to his work, blithely and bravely exclaiming, " The water is 
rising in the well again." Though suffering from an extensive 
disease of the lungs and a harassing cough, he went on with 
his lectures as usual. " How nobly, how sweetly, how cheerily," 
says Dr. John Brown, " he bore all those long baffling years ; 
how his bright, active, ardent, unsparing soul lorded it over his 
frail but willing body, making it do more than seemed possible, 
and, as it were, by sheer force of will ordering it to live longer 
than was in it to do, those who lived with him and witnessed 
this triumph of spirit over matter will not soon forget. It was 
a lesson to every one of what true goodness of nature, elevated 
and cheered by the highest and happiest of all motives, can 
make a man endure, achieve, and enjoy." 

One day, after delivering his usual lecture, he had returned 
home, and lain down to enjoy a brief repose, when he was 
aroused by a fit of coughing, and the rupture of a blood-vessel, 
causing the loss of a considerable quantity of blood. Though 
aware of the significance of this fatal symptom, he yielded not 
for a moment to despondency or languor ; made his appearance 
regularly at the family meals ; and on the very next day, lect- 
ured twice in public, though the exertion induced a second 
attack of haemorrhage. A severe illness followed. Once more 
he rallied ; and on his convalescence being assured, was ap- 
pointed (in 1835) to the Professorship of Technology and the 
Curatorship of the Industrial Museum. The first was a new 
creation, and- its duties were undefined, almost undefinable ; 
but Wilson threw himself into the work with intense ardor, col- 
lected specimens of models, elaborated details, and lectured 
"without ceasing." His force of character maintained a con- 



1 60 B USINESS HABITS. 

stant struggle with disease, and maintained it until another 
attack of haemorrhage, this time from the stomach as well as 
the lungs, forced him to relax a little. " For a month, or some 
forty days," he wrote, "a dreadful Lent, the wind has blown 
geographically from ' Araby the Blest,' but thermometrically 
from Iceland the accursed. I have been made prisoner of war, 
but by an icicle in the lungs, and have shivered and burned 
alternately for a large portion of the last month, and spat blood 
till I grew pale with coughing. Now I am better, and to-morrow 
I give my concluding lecture (on Technology), thankful that I 
have contrived, notwithstanding all my troubles, to carry on with 
out missing a lecture to the last day of the Faculty of Arts." 
But his physical strength was rapidly declining. To write a 
letter became an effort. A constant weariness beset him. He 
contrived, nevertheless, so far to prevail over the body as to 
write his very valuable book, " The Five Gateways of Knowl- 
edge," which has been justly characterized as " a prose poem 
or hymn of the finest utterance and fancy — the white light of 
science diffracted through the crystalline prism of his mind into 
the colored glories of the spectrum ; truth dressed in the 
iridescent hues of the rainbow, and not the less but all the 
more true." Days rendered gloomy by pain, and nights rend- 
ered weary by want of sleep, could not subdue this unconquer- 
able spirit, with its firm, decisive, intrepid will. He resumed 
his lectures, and began with much zest his " Life of Professor 
Edward Forbes." His vital powers were giving way to repeated 
attacks of bleeding from the lungs, but he could not be per- 
suaded to lay aside his armor. "The word duty" he wrote, 
" seems to me the biggest word in the world, and is uppermost 
in all my serious doings." 



" MINDFUL OF DEA TH. " 1 6 1 

At last, one day (the 18th of November, 1859), he returned 
from his lecture-room with a sharp pain in his side, so that he 
could scarcely crawl upstairs to his bedroom. The physicians, 
on examining him, declared that it proceeded from an attack 
of pleuro-pneumonia. He was too shattered to resist so- terri- 
ble a disease, and after an illness of five days, passed away 
peacefully into his eternal rest. 

We have cited him here as a shining example of the high 
and noble success that crowns the life of the man of decision, 
the man whose intellectual power is happily supplemented by 
moral firmness. But it will be well for the reader to recollect 
that he affords an example of an even more important truth. 

"To George Wilson," says Dr. John Brown, " to all such 
men — and this is the great lesson of his life — the heavens are 
forever telling His glory, the firmament is forever showing forth 
His handiwork ; day unto day, every day, is forever uttering 
speech, and night unto night is showing knowledge concerning 
Him. When he considered these heavens as he lay awake, 
weary and in pain, they were to him the work of His fingers. 
The moon, walking in brightness, and lying in white glory on 
his bed — the stars — were of Him ordained. He was a singu- 
larly happy and happy-making man. No one since his boy- 
hood could have suffered more from pain and languor, and the 
misery of an unable body. Yet he was not only cheerful, he 
was gay, full of all sorts of fun — genuine fun — and his jokes 
and queer turns of thought and word were often worthy of 
Cowper or Charles Lamb. Being, from his state of health and 
his knowledge of medicine, necessarily 'mindful of death,' 
having the possibility of his dying any day or any hour always 
before him, and that ' undiscovered country ' lying full in his 



1 62 BUSINESS HABITS. 

view, he must, taking as he did the right notion of the nature 
of things, have had a peculiar intensity of pleasure in the 
everyday beauties of the world — 

' The common sun, the air, the skies, 
To him were opening Paradise.' " 

We have spoken hitherto of business qualities ; we have now 
to speak of business habits. And this section of our book we 
might easily open, were we so inclined, with prudent maxims 
and sage commonplaces bearing upon the power of habit. 
As, for instance, from St. Augustine : " My will the enemy 
held, and thence had made a chain for me, and bound me. 
For of a froward will was a lust made, and a lust served be- 
came custom, and custom not resisted became necessity. By 
which truths, as it were, joined together (whence I called it a 
chain), a hard bondage held me enthralled." Or from Mon- 
taigne : " Habit is a violent and treacherous schoolmistress. 
She, by little and little, slyly and unperceived, slips in the feet 
of her authority ; but having by this gentle and humble begin- 
ning, with the aid of time, fixed and established it, she then 
unmasks a furious and tyrannical countenance, against which 
we have no more the courage nor the power so much as to lift 
up our eyes." But we shall be content with a forcible illustra- 
tion suggested by a modern writer. Some of our readers may 
have seen a machine intended to operate upon cold iron. 
With all the tranquil ease of a common printing-press, it exerts 
a force equal to a thousand tons ; while each pressure of the 
"ram " expels large cubes out of the solid bar with as much 
facility as one can break earthenware or mould clay. It will 
drive its hard steel finger through iron two inches thick with- 
out the slightest jar or failure in the regularity of its action 



HABITS. 163 

What is the secret of this " prodigious and constant power ? " 
It lies in the accumulated force of the balance-wheel, which, 
performing one hundred and thirty revolutions in a minute, 
bears with crushing momentum upon the steel punch, and must 
either break the whole machine into fragments or drive through 
every obstacle. Such is the power of habit. It accumulates in 
time a moral force as resistless as the pressure of the balance- 
wheel. And by no means all for evil. Frequently it supplies 
a much-needed support on which the mind can fall back safely 
when oppressed by any sudden affliction. " There are times 
of pressure in every man's life, when he would utterly fail but 
for the help thus afforded ; but, fortunately, at the crisis, by 
the force of principles that have gathered energy by long and 
persevering habit, he is carried over the dead-point, and then 
he is able to rally his strength for new trials." How all-im- 
portant is it, therefore, that we should vigilantly attend to the 
formation of good habits — habits which, in the hour of trial, 
may become, as we have said, a buttress and not a snare ! 
Such, for instance, as a habit of punctuality, a habit of temper- 
ance, a habit of attention to detail, a habit of weighing our 
words, and, before all and above all, a habit of prayer ! These 
*are habits which will largely help us along the pathway of life, 
bridging over many a deep gulf, and staying our feet on many 
a dangerous precipice. To the man of business, for instance, 
how valuable must be the habit of close and careful observa- 
tion, the habit of order and method, the habit of remembering 
engagements ! This is not suggesting that we should become 
the slaves of habit ; on the contrary, we are desirous that habit 
shall become our slave. 

The biography of great men is a record of greatness achieved 



164 BUSINESS HABITS. 

by the cultivation of good habits. The habit of exact and 
patient thought made Newton the discoverer of the principle 
of gravitation. The habit of close attention to the physical 
features of a country enabled Wellington to win at Waterloo. 
The habit of methodical labor resulted in Laplace's vast contri- 
butions to astronomical science. And so the tale runs on. Dr. 
Kane writes that, during his winter residence in the frozen lands 
of the grim Polar world, he kept up the spirits of his men, 
roused their energies, and preserved even their physical health, 
by rigidly enforcing the old habits. "Nothing," he remarks, 
" depresses and demoralises so much as a surrender of the ap- 
proved and habitual forms of life. I resolved that everything 
should go on as it had done. The arrangement of hours, the 
distribution and details of duty, the religious exercises, the 
ceremonials of the table, the fires, the lights, the watch, the 
labors of the observatory, and the notation of the tides and the 
sky — nothing should be intermitted that had contributed to 
make up the day." 

To the lawyer, the man of science, the man of business, it 
must be admitted that the habit of accuracy proves invaluable. 
Consider what serious mistakes it prevents ; what loss of time, 
labor, temper, energy. To do one thing accurately is more 
profitable in the long-run than to do ten things imperfectly " I 
do not know," says Sir Arthur Helps, " that there is anything, 
except it be humility, which is so valuable as an incident of 
education as accuracy. And accuracy can be taught Direct 
lies told to the world are as dust in the balance when weighed 
against the falsehoods of inaccuracy. These are the fatal 
things, and they are all prevading. I scarcely care what is taught 
to the young, if it will but implant in them the habit of accu- 



ACCURACY. 165 

racy. How rare a thing it is ! How seldom do we repeat ex- 
actly even the terms of a message that has been intrusted to 
us ! If we describe some occurrence we have witnessed or 
acted in, how unconsciously do we exaggerate or modify the 
details ! Even to ourselves we fail in accuracy. We endeavor 
to deceive our own consciences. We will have it that black 
was not wholly black, or white entirely white. Accuracy in 
recollection is almost as scarce as accuracy in relation ; and 
every lawyer, every physician, knows how scarce a commodity 
is the latter." 

We are not accustomed to think of George Washington as a 
business man, and yet he was not less successful in that capa- 
city than eminent as an administrator. Even at the early age 
of thirteen he studied the forms and observances of business 
with great ardor. He copied out bills of exchange, notes of 
hand, bills of sale, receipts, and similar documents ; all being 
remarkable for the accuracy and elegance with which they were 
executed. His manuscripts then, as in later life, were of the 
utmost neatness and uniformity ; the diagrams always beautiful, 
the columns and tables of figures exact ; all unblotted, un- 
stained, and in admirable order. His business papers, ledgers, 
and day-books, in which no one wrote but himself, would have 
delighted the heart of Tim Linkinwater. Every fact had its 
place, and was recorded in a clear and legible handwriting ; 
neither interlineation, blot, nor blemish was visible. One of 
his rules, at this early age, was — " Let your discourse with men 
of business be short and comprehensive." 

From 1759 to 1764 Washington was in full mercantile acti- 
vity, regularly exporting to London the produce of his large 
estate on the Potomac. The shipments were made in his own 



1 66 B U SI NESS HABITS. 

name, and to his correspondents in Bristol and Liverpool, to 
which place his tobacco was consigned. In return for the arti- 
cles exported he was accustomed to import from London twice 
a year the goods which he required for his own use ; and it is 
recorded, as an example of the exactness with which he con- 
ducted his commercial transactions as an importer, that he in- 
sisted upon his attendant sending him, in addition to a general 
bill of the whole, the original vouchers of the shop-keepers or 
mechanics from whom purchases had been made. In these 
matters his habit of punctiliousness was such, that he recorded, 
with his own hand, in books prepared for the purpose, all the 
long lists of orders, and copies of the multifarious receipts 
from the different parties who had supplied the goods. In this 
way he maintained a complete supervision of the business, 
ascertained the prices, detected the slightest attempt at imposi- 
tion, and the most trivial instance of carlessness or neglect. 
Readers of Mr. Jared Spark's life of the American patriot will 
be aware that he afterwards carried these business habits into 
his management of public affairs, and that they frequently 
proved of much advantage to his country. 

The habit of minding one's own business has been strongly 
impressed on the attention of " beginners " by the veterans of 
the commercial world. The late Philadelphia millionaire, 
Stephen Girard to whom reference has already been made, 
used to say, " During my long commercial experience, I have 
noticed that no advantage results from telling one's business to 
others, except to create jealousy or competition when we are 
fortunate, and to gratify our enemies when otherwise." From 
this safe habit he was never known to deviate. 

In an American work we read that the Honorable Peter C. 



THALES. 167 

Brooks, of Boston, who left one of the largest fortunes ever 
amassed in the United States, on being asked what rule he 
would recommend to a young man as best adapted to ensure 
success, replied, " Let him mind his own business," To a 
similar inquiry, it is said, Mr. Robert Lenox, of New York, 
reputed to have been one of the most distinguished merchants 
ever known in the Great Western City, replied, " Let him be 
beforehand with his business." The one answer, it has been 
remarked, seems to include the other, as no man can be before- 
hand with his own business if he involve himself in that of 
others. Business is a jealous goddess, and frowns upon those 
votaries who do not devote themselves almost exclusively to 
her shrine. 

A few anecdotes loosely strung together will enlighten the 
reader as to certain business habits better than pages of com- 
ment. We take one from quaint old Montaigne relating to 
Thales the philosopher : — Thales once inveighing in discourse 
against the pains and anxieties men inflict upon themselves in 
order to become rich, was answered by one in the company 
that he resembled the fox which found fault with what it could 
not obtain. Thereupon Thales, for the jest's sake, had a mind 
to show the contrary ; and having upon this occasion made a 
muster of all his wits, wholly to employ them in the service of 
profit, he set a traffic on foot, which in one year brought him 
so great riches that the most experienced in that trade could 
hardly in their whole lives, with all their industry, have raked 
so much together. Now-a-days fortunes are not made with 
such wonderful rapidity ; but it is to be observed that they are 
made in the same way, namely, by " mustering all one's wits " 
and applying them to the object in hand. 



1 68 BUSINESS HABITS. 

Let not the reader marvel that a philosopher like Thales 
engaged in business. There is no wall of partition between 
business and literature, or business and art, or business and 
science. The qualities which secure success in trade or com- 
merce are those which secure success in other departments of 
human industry. A vulgar prejudice exists against business, 
unworthy of a nation which to this source traces so much of 
its prosperity ; but in truth it is not necessarily demoralizing or 
mean or degrading. It is not deficient even in the elements 
of the romantic and picturesque ; and the exciting episodes in 
the careers of many great merchants and successful traders 
immeasurably surpass in interest those which embellish the 
pages of popular fiction. Undoubtedly, if a man devote him- 
self wholly and exclusively to money-making he will become 
a sorry creature ; but nothing in the abstract character of busi- 
ness requires him to forfeit the refined and elevating influences 
of the higher culture. As a matter of fact, letters and art and 
the sciences, as well as politics, have been advantageously cul- 
tivated by men of business. Samuel Rogers, the poet, was a 
banker ; so was Ricardo, the political economist ; Grote, the 
author of our standard History of Greece ; Roscoe, the biog- 
rapher of Leo X. and Lorenzo de Medici ; and Bailey, the 
author of some admirable " Essays on the Formation of Opin- 
ion." Sir John Lubbock, so well known for his research as an 
antiquary, is the head of an eminent banking firm. 

Bryan Waller Procter, who, as poet and dramatist, employed 
the pseudonym of "Barry Cornwall," was a lawyer, and held a 
Commissionership in Lunacy. Horace and James Smith, the 
witty authors of " The Rejected Addresses," and many other 
humorous compositions, were solicitors. So was Sharon Tur- 



BUSINESS AND LITERATURE. 1 69 

ner, the historian, and so was Mr. Broderip, the naturalist. 
Sir Henry Taylor, the most thoughtful of our modern poet- 
dramatists ; Sir John Kaye, the Indian historian ; Anthony 
Trollope, the novelist, to whose facile and lively pen the public 
owe so many hours of healthy enjoyment ; Matthew Arnold, 
poet, essayist, critic ; Sir Arthur Helps, the author of " Friends 
in Council," and other wise and genial books, — all these have 
been, and some of them still are, engaged in the public 
service. John Stuart Mill was at one time principal examiner 
in the East India House, where, as everybody knows, Charles 
Lamb, the immortal " Elia," was a clerk. So was Thomas 
Peacock, the most thoroughly original of humoristic nove- 
lists. 

John Bright is a Rochdale manufacturer, and the first Sir 
Robert Peel was a cotton-spinner. The present First Lord of 
the Admiralty, Mr. W. H. Smith, was at one time the head of a 
great newspaper agency. Samuel Richardson, over the woes 
of whose " Clarissa " so many generations have shed sympa- 
thetic tears, was a bookseller ; and so was Benjamin Franklin. 
De Foe was a brick and tile maker, and Izaak Walton a linen- 
draper. Sir John Herschel held with credit the office of 
Master of the Mint. 

" If facts were required," says Coleridge, " to prove the pos- 
sibility of combining weighty performances in literature with 
full and independent employment, the works of Cicero and 
Xenophon among the ancients, of Sir Thomas More, Bacon, 
Baxter, or (to refer at once to later and contemporary instances) 
Darwin and Roscoe, are at once decisive of the question." 
Foreign names of the highest celebrity may also be quoted. 
What was Galileo ? A physician. What was Dante ? A chem- 



I 70 B USINESS HABITS. 

ist, and afterwards a diplomatist. Villani, the Florentine his- 
torian, was a merchant. Medicine claims Goldoni, the Italian 
novelist, Rabelais, the creator of " Pantagruel," and Schiller, 
the German poet. 

But we have digressed from our main theme, and now return 
to our anecdotical illustrations of business habits and qualities. 
"It's what thee'll spend, my son," said a sage old Quaker, 
■"not what thee'll make, which will decide whether thee's to 
be rich or not." Franklin puts into old Richard's mouth a 
similar maxim — " Take care of the pennies, and the pounds 
will take care of themselves." John Jacob Astor used to say 
that a man who wishes to be rich, and has saved two thousand 
dollars, has won half the battle, and is on the highway to for- 
tune. Not that Astor regarded " two thousand " as a very con- 
siderable sum. But he knew that in making and saving so 
much, a man acquired habits of thoughtful thrift which would 
keep him constantly advancing in wealth. Those customary 
small expenses, that outlay for "petty cash," usually designated 
"only a trifle," amount, in the aggregate, like the sands of the 
seashore, to a formidable figure. Pip's expedient, in Dickens' 
" Great Expectations," of " leaving a margin," by no means 
meets the exigences of the case. "Ten cents a day even," 
says an American writer, " is thirty-six dollars and a half a 
year, and that is the interest on a capital of six hundred dol- 
lars, so that the man who saves ten cents a day only, is so much 
richer than him who does not, as if he owned a life estate in a 
property worth six hundred dollars. 

The industrious and persevering habits of Gideon Lee were 
truly remarkable ; he usually devoted to work sixteen out of 
the twenty-four hours. An anecdote, told by himself, may be 



THE SABBATH. 171 

quoted in illustration of two prominent features of his character, 
which should also be those of every man of business — his dili- 
gent application and his steady purpose. He had " made a 
bargain with himself," to use his own language, that he would 
every day labor a certain number of hours, and that nothing 
but sickness or inability should induce him to violate his com- 
pact. " It was known," he continued, " to my young friends in 
the neighborhood, and on some convivial occasion they came 
to my shop and compelled me to leave my work and go with 
them. I lost my night's rest in consequence, for the morning 
sun found me at work, redeeming the lost time." 

That all business, all care, all worldly thought should be sus- 
pended for one day out of the seven, and that the day which 
the Christian world keeps in commemoration of its Saviour's 
resurrection, has been the lifelong conviction of many noble- 
minded men of business, such, for instance, as Zachary 
Macaulay, Brassey, Stephenson, George Moore. A distin- 
guished capitalist and financier, loaded with an immense 
burden of pecuniary responsibilities during the severe financial 
crisis of 1836, was heard to say, " I should have been a dead 
man had it not been for the Sabbath. Obliged to work from 
morning to night, to a degree that no hired day-laborer would 
submit to, through the whole week, I felt on Saturday, es- 
pecially on Saturday afternoon, as if I must have rest. It was 
like going into a dense fog. Everything looked dark and 
gloomy, as if nothing could be saved. I dismissed all from my 
mind, and kept the Sabbath in the ' good old way.' On Mon- 
day it was all bright sunshine. I could see through, and I got 
through. But had it not been for the Sabbath, I have no doubt 
I should have been in the grave." 



172 BUSINESS HABITS. 

The following narrative bears upon this question of Sabbath 
observance : — 

" I was in command of a vessel," writes a certain captain in 

the mercantile service, " engaged in trading between N 

and a port in Brazil. 

" The custom of the Brazilian port was to load vessels on 
the Sabbath. This labor was performed by gangs of negroes 
under the direction of stevedores. These stevedores were few 
in number ; and, in times of great hurry of business, in order 
to make an equitable division of their services, the vessels were 
accustomed to take their turns in the order in which they were 
reported as ready to receive cargo. If, when the time came 
round for a particular vessel to load, she was not ready, her 
name was transferred to the bottom of the list. It was my lot 
to experience some of the effects of this custom. 

" My turn came to load. The work commenced and con- 
tinued till Saturday night, when I ordered the hatches to be 
closed, and forbade any work being done on board till Monday 
morning. The stevedore and his gang, muttering curses, left 
the vessel, threatening to do no more work on board. 

" Monday came. I made application to the commission- 
merchant, and I was informed that I had lost my turn in load- 
ing, and must wait until it came round again, and that the 
stevedore and his gang had gone on board another vessel. 

" To aggravate my disappointment, I found that a hostile 
feeling had sprung up against me, and was participated in by 
all around. The merchant was studiously polite and respectful 
as before, but no longer familiar. Masters of vessels avoided 
my society. Evil-disposed persons busied themselves in se- 
cretly doing me injuries, such as cutting my rigging in the 



SUNDAY ON THE SEA. 1/3 

night-time, and the like. And thus things went on until our 
turn came round again, when, there being no other vessel ready- 
to load, we were left to do our own work in our own way. 
The loss of time occasioned by the refusal to load on the Sab- 
bath amounted to several weeks. Whether it was actually a 
loss or not the result will show. 

" It was now Saturday night again, the loading of the ship 
was completed, and we were ready for sea. With the Sabbath 
came a fresh and fair wind ; but instead of sailing, the Bethel 
flag was hoisted, as an invitation for all the shipmates to come 
on board, and observe the day in the good old way. 

" Monday morning early we were under sail for the lower 
harbor, several miles distant. On our way we passed two brigs 
aground, with lighters alongside discharging their cargo, in 
order to lighten them and get them off. They left the harbor 
on the Sabbath, and here they were. On reaching the lower 
harbor, we found, to our surprise, lying at anchor, upwards of 
forty sail of shipping waiting for a wind. Among them were 
all the vessels that had cleared for the last month or more, in- 
cluding every vessel that had obtained an advantage over us 
in respect to loading. 

" We had now to obtain a pilot and get to sea when the wind 
came fair, and before it had spent itself. These were by no 
means matters easy to be accomplished. Pilots were few and 
vessels many ; and here, too, the principle of rotation was 
rigidly enforced. The winds meanwhile, when fair, were short- 
lived and feeble, and the bar at the entrance of the harbor was 
too dangerous to pass without a pilot. A pilot, who had been 
on a long visit to the interior, returned to the seaboard and 
resumed his duties on the very day when we reached the outer 



174 BUSINESS HABITS. 

harbor, and presenting himself on board, offered to pilot us to 
sea. 

" Tuesday morning found us with a fair wind, a pilot on 
board, and under way at daylight. We were the second vessel 
over the bar, and among the first to arrive in the United 
States. The getting out of cargo, its exposure and sale, were 
matters of no little interest. Our own cargo, owing to the 
delay in getting it on board, received unusual attention at our 
hands, and was in perfect shipping order when stowed away 
and came out in the same good condition. The cargoes of the 
other vessels came out very differently, with a loss in some 
cases of twenty, thirty, and even fifty per cent. This was 
occasioned in part by hurrying the hides on board in the first 
instance without their being thoroughly dried, in order to 
greater despatch, and in part to the unusual detention of the 
vessels at the port of loading. From these two causes com- 
bined, and the activity of the vermin that took possession of 
the hides, and riddled them through and through, several of 
these voyages turned out disastrous failures." 

To sum up all, what is business itself but habit, for the soul 
of it is regularity ? This, like the fly-wheel upon a steam- 
engine, is the principle (as Professor Mathews remarks) which 
preserves the uninterrupted motion of life, and distributes the 
force equally over all the work to be performed. Only let the 
reader remember that business habits, that all good habits, are 
not to be formed in a day, nor by a few vague resolutions. 
Not by accident, not by fits and starts, not by sudden alterna- 
tions from paroxysms of activity to sleepy intervals of apathy, 
are they to be attained, but by continuous and vigorous effort. 
And specially is it needful that they should be formed in 



COURTESY. 175 

youth, for then they make the least demand upon us. Like 
letters cut in the bark of a tree, they expand with age. Once 
attained, they constitute a security against the ills of circum- 
stance. Their possessor is enabled to bear easily the burden 
of life, is prepared for every accident, every mutation of for- 
tune. On the other hand, evil habits, once acquired, become 
the thralls and bonds which fatally shackle the limbs of their 
victim, and render ineffectual his tardy exertions to rescue 
himself from the waters which he feels to be closing over 
him. 

Among those habits, the cultivation of which seems as indis- 
pensable to the happiness of life as to success, is that of gentle 
breeding. Courtesy is not too highly rated if we class it among 
the virtues, for it involves a feeling of consideration for our 
fellows, if not of love ; a desire not to shock their susceptibili- 
ties, if not to engage their affections. We think it may be 
defined as the negative side of charity. It is a passive benevo- 
lence, a kindliness of spirit and demeanor not proceeding to 
the active exercise of benevolence. Do not let us speak lightly 
of it, for it subdues the friction of the wheels of life ; it renders 
our social intercouse brighter, sweeter and more refined ; and 
it promotes the growth of a spirit of mutual sympathy and 
intelligence. Not only are we not the worse, but we are much 
the better, for carrying the habit of courtesy even into our 
domestic relations ; of cultivating good manners on the part 
of husband towards wife, of brother towards sister, or of 
parents towards children ; not, of course, as a substitute for 
love, but as a pleasant accompaniment to it. When, in " The 
Caxtons," the attractive young Marquis flatters with profuse 
attention the young wife of Sir Sidney Beaudesert, the latter 



I ?6 B USINESS HABITS. 

baffles his design, and turns the tables upon him, by the 
superior grace of his manners and the more exquisite polish 
of his breeding. The highest genius, like the highest rank, is 
always attentively courteous ; it is only the conceit of imma- 
ture talent or the pretension of vulgar affluence that descends 
to a disregard of social forms and conventionalities. Cceteris 
paribus, the man of politeness is altogether a more agreeable 
neighbor and a more desirable acquaintance than the man of 
talent, or even the man of feeling. Everybody cannot appre- 
ciate intellect " in the rough," or excessive sensibility, but 
everybody acknowledges the charm of fine manners. For our 
part, if any request of ours must be met with a negative, we 
should prefer to have it uttered in a bland and suave tone, and 
accompanied by a word or two of graceful apology. We would 
rather be bowed out than kicked out. That mental candor on 
which some arrogant egotists pride themselves is almost as 
offensive as a vice. We should respect the feelings of others 
as we desire that our own may be respected. There was some 
exaggeration, but there was also much truth, in Hawthorne's 
remark, that God might forgive sins, but that awkwardness 
had no forgiveness in heaven or earth. Fine manners and a 
gentle, tender courtesy are so precious and so fruitful of good, 
that in speaking of them anybody may be forgiven if he should 
chance to employ the language of unstinted eulogium. In 
truth courtesy or chivalry — which is courtesy reduced to prac- 
tice — has been known only since the foundation of Christianity. 
The Romans were not courteous, nor the Greeks chivalrous. 
For the connection between manners and morals is as close as 
the Latin word mos indicates, and Christian morality has 
brought with it Christian chivalry. 



THE Q UAKER S ME THOD. 1 7 7 

The essence of courtesy is embodied in Wordsworth's lines — 

" Never to blend our pleasure or our pride 
With sorrow to the meanest thing that feels." 

Not physical sorrow only, but mental irritability ; such irrita- 
bility as is often caused by a sharp jest, an unkind reproach, or 
a contemptuous expression. Employers of labor too often err 
in this respect ; solely to their own cost, for willing labor, such 
as courtesy procures, is infinitely more profitable than that 
which is given grudgingly in closely calculated return for the 
fixed wage. "Sir," exclaimed Dr. Johnson, "a man has no 
more right to say an uncivil thing than to act one — no more 
right to say a rude thing to another than to knock him down." 
The axiom is not the less valuable because it was so often 
neglected by him who enunciated it. And it may be clinched 
by an anecdote for which Mr. H. W. Beecher stands sponsor. 
In the early days of the Abolition movement in the United 
States two men went out preaching ; one, a sage old Quaker, 
brave and calm ; the other, a very fervid young man. When 
the Quaker lectured, the audience were all attention, and his 
arguments met with very general concurrence. But when it 
came to the young man's turn, a tumult invariably ensued, and 
he was pelted off the platform. Surprised by their different 
receptions, the young man "interviewed " the Quaker to ascer- 
tain the reason. "Friend," he said, "you and I are on the 
same mission, we preach the same things ; how is it that while 
you are received so cordially, / get nothing but abuse ?" " I 
will tell thee," replied the Quaker ; " thee says, ' If you do so 
and so, you shall be punished,' and I say, ' My friends, if you 
will 7iot do so and so, you shall not be punished.' " It is not 
what we say, but how we say it ; not the opinion, but the man- 



178 BUSINESS HABITS. 

ner in which it is conveyed. It was said of the great Duke of 
Marlborough that to be denied a favor by him was more pleas- 
ing than to receive one from any other person ; and not a few 
of his diplomatic triumphs were won entirely by the fascination 
of his address. This was a talent which Talleyrand could also 
bring effectively into use. It redeemed in the eyes of the world 
many of the grave faults of George IV. Charles II. possessed 
it to perfection. According to the well-known story, his ex- 
quisite courtesy did not desert him on his deathbed, when he 
apologised to his courtiers for being " so unconsciously long a 
time in dying." This reminds us of the Earl of Chesterfield, 
who, in his last hours, when a friend was announced to see 
him, rebuked a careless servant with the words, "Give Mr. 
Dayrolles a chair." 

No doubt, all this courtesy, this grace of manner, this refine- 
ment of breeding, may be purely superficial. No doubt it 
frequently conceals, or attempts to conceal, the vices of a bad 
heart and a corrupt nature. But it by no means follows that 
roughness or bluntness is an index of fine manly qualities. As 
often as not your supposed " rough diamonds " turn out very 
poor stones indeed. The coarse candor or rudeness which you 
take for a delightful symptom of unsophisticated honesty is not 
seldom assumed for purposes of deception. Now, though a well- 
mannered man may be a villian, it is difficult to conceive of a 
Christian as other than a gentleman. His religion will surely 
teach him those graces of speech and temper which constitute 
the truest courtesy. Take an example in the great physicist 
Faraday. His nature was impetuous and fervid, but the self- 
discipline imposed upon him by his religious convictions " con- 
verted his fire into a central glow and motive power of life, 



MANNERS MAKE THE MAN. 1 79 

instead of permitting it to waste itself in useless passion." 
What lessons of the highest politeness are taught in the epistles 
of St. Paul ! Who could be other than a gentleman if he acted 
upon them ? 

That " manners make the man " in business is proved by the 
successful career of the late Herbert Ingram, the founder of 
the " Illustrated London News." He began life as a newspaper 
vendor at Nottingham, and soon secured a large connection by 
his readiness to oblige. On one occasion, having among his 
customers a gentleman who wanted his paper very early, his 
anxiety to prevent him from being disappointed was so great 
that he walked ten miles to supply him with his wonted budget 
of daily news. On another occasion, he rose at two in the 
morning, and travelled all the way to London to procure some 
copies of a newspaper which could not reach him in time by 
post, in order to supply his customers. Mr. Winans of Phila- 
delphia, the inventor of the cigar-shaped sub-marine vessel 
which attracted attention some years ago, owed his introduction 
to the Russian Government as an engineer to his civility to a 
couple of strangers. The gentlemen had been allowed to 
wander unattended and uninstructed through the largest estab- 
lishments of Philadelphia, but on their visiting Mr. Winans', a 
third or fourth-rate factory, they were received with the readiest 
attention, and with the most evident desire to render their visit 
agreeable and instructive. The result was, within a twelve- 
month, an invitation to establish himself in Russia. He ac- 
cepted it, and in a few years accumulated a large fortune. 

Many more besides Ingram and Winans have found civility 
the road to fortune. A physician once said sagely to his stud- 
ents, " Young gentlemen, have two pockets made ; a large one 



180 BUSINESS HABITS. 

to hold the insults, and a small one to hold the fees." A dry- 
goods salesman in a London house had gained such a reputation 
for patience and politeness as to draw an infinity of prtronage. 
It was said to be impossible to provoke him into any symptom 
of annoyance and incivility of expression. A lady of rank, 
hearing of this marvel of good manners, determined to subject 
him to a severe test ; but failing to disturb him by a long series 
of petty vexations, was so delighted by his equanimity that she 
provided him with the capital necessary to start in business for 
himself. It is said of the late Mr. Baker of Providence, Rhode 
Island, that he was so obliging as to reopen his " store " one 
night solely to supply a little girl with the skein of thread she 
wanted. The incident was noised abroad, and brought him a 
large influx of customers. He died a millionaire, and left a striking 
illustration to posterity of the fact that politeness makes pounds! 
The orator cannot afford to dispense with the charm of 
manner. It was the explanation of much of the effect of 
Chatham's eloquence. Lord Mansfield, the " silver-tongued 
Murray " of Pope, owed as much to the grace of his delivery as 
to the force of his logic. Chesterfield informs us that the Duke 
of Argyll, though an inconsequent reasoner, was a singularly 
impressive speaker. He influenced his audience, not by his 
matter, but by his manner of delivering it. " I was captivated 
like others," say Chesterfied, "but when I went home, and 
coolly considered what he had said, stripped of all those orna- 
ments with which he had dressed it, I often found the manner 
flimsy, the argument weak, and I was convinced of the power 
of those adventitious concurring circumstances which it is 
ignorance of mankind to call trifling." Chesterfield himself 
was well versed in the art of politeness, and thoroughly under- 



THE ADVANTAGE OF PLEA SING. 1 5 1 

stood the effect of manner. Describing his introduction into 
the House of Lords of a bill to secure the adoption of the 
Gregorian Calendar in England, he says : " I was to bring in 
this bill, which was necessarily composed of law jargon and 
astronomical calculations, to both of which I am an utter 
stranger. However, it was absolutely necessary to make the 
House of Lords think that I knew something of the matter, and 
also make them believe that they knew something of it them- 
selves, which they did not. For my own part, I could just as 
soon have talked Celtic or Sclavonian to them as astronomy, 
and they would have understood me as well ; so I resolved to 
do better than speak to the purpose, and to please instead of 
informing them. ... I was particularly attentive to the choice 
of my words, to the harmony and roundness of my periods, to 
my elocution, to my action. This succeeded, and ever will 
succeed ; they thought I informed because I pleased them ; 
and many of them said that I had made the whole very clear to 
them, when, God knows, I had not even attempted it. Lord 
Macclesfield, who had the greatest share in framing the bill, and 
who is one of the greatest mathematicians and astronomers in 
Europe, spoke afterwards with infinite knowledge, and all the 
clearness that so intricate a matter would admit of ; but as his 
words, his periods, and his utterance were not nearly so good 
as mine, the preference was most unanimously, though most 
unjustly, given to me." Charles James Fox's urbanity, spring- 
ing from a kindly heart and generous disposition, made all his 
followers his friends and devoted adherents. His rival, William 
Pitt, could command votes, but nothing more. The frigidity 
of his demeanor repelled ; and though so powerful as a Minis- 
ter, he had scarcely a friend. 



1 82 BUSINESS HABITS. 

" A beautiful behavior," says Emerson, "is better than a 
beautiful form ; it gives a higher pleasure than statues or pic- 
tures ; it is the finest of the finest arts." We are all of us sen- 
sible of its influence. In a Mirabeau it induces us to forget his 
ugliness ; in a Topham Beauclerk it soothes the rough moralist 
Dr. Johnson into the gentlest condonation of his errors of con- 
duct : in a Fenelon it adds an additional attraction to his genius 
and virtue. We find in the social circle that it puts everybody 
at ease, and promotes a general cordiality, a desire to be of use 
to one another. It is the everyday application of the Divine 
commandment, " Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." 
Like the subtle influence of light, it lends a brightness and 
freshness to the most commonplace things. Like the fragrance 
of flowers, it is felt even when not seen. " It pushes its way 
silently and persistently, like the ^tiniest daffodil in spring, 
which raises the cold and thrusts it aside by the simple persist- 
ence of growing." 

Courtesy will assist us to prevent our just appreciation of 
ourselves from assuming the proportions of an offensive egotism. 
Nothing is so despicable as conceit ; nothing so injudicious as 
self-depreciation. Dean Swift has told us that although men 
are accused for not knowing their own weakness, yet perhaps 
as few know their own strength. But it is equally desirable 
and necessary that we should form a due estimate of what we 
are and what we can do, and that estimate we may rightly ex- 
pect to be accepted by others. For man to be his own trum- 
peter seems to us as bad in policv as it is objectionable in 
principle ; but assuredly he is not required to be his own cal- 
umniator. We do not believe that in professional life or in 
business anything is gained by charlatanism or loudness of self- 



FALSE HUMILITY. 1 83 

assertion. On the other hand too conspicuous a humility is 
apt to be understood by the world as originating in a conscious- 
ness of inferiority. " The pious and just knowing of ourselves," 
says Milton, " may be thought the radical moisture and foun- 
tain-head from whence every laudable and worthy enterprise 
issues forth." We know, or we ought to know, when we do 
our work well ; and though a modest mind will shrink from 
proclaiming it to all the world, a truthful mind will not allow it 
to be spoken of as ill done. 

We are very much inclined to say with a sensible moralist, 
that pretty as lowliness and unobstrusive worth are in theory, 
and pleasant to read about in moral essays, they are hardly 
work-a-day qualities. " He who relies upon them, who is 
always crouching in a corner, and cannot ask for his due, or 
who goes about, as Robert Hall said, ' with an air of perpetual 
apology for the unpardonable presumption of being in the 
world ; ' who never puts himself forward, or, if he does, does 
so with the forlorn hope with which Snug the joiner begs the 
audience to take him for a lion ; who cannot say that he wants 
anything, or cannot say it with sufficient loudness and per- 
tinacity ; who cannot make himself prominent at the right 
time, though he knows it to be the right time — may be a beau- 
tiful object of creation, very lovable, and very much to be ad- 
mired, but must expect to be not only outstripped, but knocked, 
crushed, and trampled under foot, in the rush and roar of this 
nineteenth century." 

Lastly, in connection with this all-important subject of busi- 
ness habits and business qualities, we may say a few words on 
the avoidance of imitation. Some people think and speak as 
if to be original in aim or method were the peculiar faculty of 



1 84 B USINE SS HA BITS. 

genius, and are content to jolt along in the rut which has been 
worn deep and wide by thousands of stumbling feet. But 
every man who makes himself master of a subject will treat 
and apply it with a certain degree of novelty. No man, who 
has anything at all in him, will say exactly what other men 
have said. If he take up an old theme, he will enforce it by 
some new illustration ; if he carve the statue of a Venus, he 
will endow it with a certain freshness of expression ; if he paint 
a picture of the sunrise, he will put into it something which no 
eyes but his own have noticed. Imitation is the resource of 
idleness ; the honest, industrious worker will never fail to lay 
down a path for himself. It may not lead as far or ascend as 
high as the paths of men of greater powers, but it will be his 
own track. 

"What is genius?" says Dr. John Brown, "and what is 
sense ? " He proceeds to answer his own questions. " Genius 
is a peculiar native aptitude or tendency to any one calling or 
pursuit over all others. A man may have a genius for govern- 
ing, for killing, or for using the greatest number of men and 
in the best possible manner ; a man may have a genius for the 
fiddle, or his mission may be for the tight-rope or the Jew's 
harp ; or it may be a natural turn for seeking, and finding, and 
teaching truth, and for doing the greatest possible good to 
mankind ; or it may be a turn, equally natural, for seeking, 
and finding, and teaching a lie, and doing the maximum of mis- 
chief. It was as natural, as inevitable, for Wilkie to develop 
himself into a painter, and such a painter as we know him to 
have been, as it is for an acorn when planted to grow up into 
an oak, a specific Quercus 1'obur. But genius, and nothing else, 
is not enough, even for a painter ; he must likewise have sense ; 



ORIGINALITY. 1 85 

and what is sense ? Sense drives, or ought to drive, the coach ; 
sense regulates, combines, restrains, commands all the rest — ■ 
even the genius ; and sense implies exactness and soundness, 
power and promptitude of mind." 

This great faculty of sense involves the capability of perceiv- 
ing the best way in which to apply one's talents, so as to ensure 
a certain originality of aim and method. It brings a clear and 
ready intelligence to bear upon the commonest details. It 
avoids red tape in politics, and denounces dulness in profes- 
sional life. It thinks, speaks, acts, and judges for itself. Orig- 
inality, within a certain obvious limit, is possible to every man 
of intelligence. In truth, it is nothing more than the applica- 
tion of one's knowledge and one's experience to the object one 
has at heart. And what honorable man will not prefer to de- 
pend on himself rather than trade upon another's wits ? Im- 
itativeness is the vice of modern society. A new invention is 
brought before the public, and commands success. A score of 
abominable imitations are immediately introduced by the un- 
scrupulous, who, in copying the original closely enough to de- 
ceive the public, and yet not so exactly as to infringe upon 
legal rights, exercise an ingenuity that, employed in an original 
channel, could not fail to secure reputation and profit. In the 
literary world this trick of imitation is objectionably rife. 

" It has been justly observed that " flashes of mind " in a 
writer are struck out by the rapid pen, and that one flash of a 
man's own mind is more profitable to himself, and will pro- 
cure him a more favorable reception from the public, than any 
amount of reprint of second-hand coruscations. Of course, the 
flash may be elicited by contact with another mind. Thorwald- 
sen's Mercury was suggested by the sight of a lad sitting in a 



1 86 B U SIN ESS HA BITS. 

graceful attitude of repose. Tennyson's " In Memoriam " 
might never have been written but for Milton's " Lycidas." 
Hazlitt records that when Edmund Kean was praised for his 
action as Richard III., in his final unavailing struggle with 
victorious Richmond, when, after his sword has been wrested 
from him, he stood with his hand stretched out, " as if his will 
could not be disarmed, and the very phantoms of his despair 
had a withering flower," he acknowledged that he had conceived 
the idea upon seeing the last effort of Painter in his fight with 
Oliver. This, however, is not imitation, not the impudent 
plagiarism of the servile copyist. In adopting and acting upon 
a suggesting, or in catching up an illustration, an original mind 
is often seen at its best. No doubt, as has been remarked, the 
most original writer, like the bee, will derive his capital stock 
of ideas, his funded store, from a variety of sources ; but as the 
bee, though it plunders all the bowers of the field of their 
"nectared sweets," is careful that its honey shall not tell of any 
special blossom, so will the man of independent mind ensure 
that his work shall not speak too directly of any particular 
master. He will collect his material from every nook and corner 
of the wide domain of literature, but it will all be filtered 
through the alembic of his own brain, and its elements recom- 
bined before being presented to the public in an enduring form. 
A writer who would seize and retain the ear of the public must 
have something of his own to say, while at times repeating and 
transmitting through a new medium the thoughts of others. 
He may adapt and borrow, but what he adapts and borrows he 
must invest with a certain degree of novelty. His style must 
be peculiar and proper to himself. To assume another man's 
style, to write Johnsonese, Carlylese, or Ruskinese, is as foolish 



IMITATION. 187 

and unprofitable as to strut about in another man's clothes. 
Ideas become the property of everybody. The thoughts of 
Plato and Cicero are part of the heritage of well cultivated 
minds ; but style is, or should be, a man's self. 

" Let the writer, then, who pants for notoriety or coverts true 
fame, follow Pat's advice to a bad orator, — come out from be- 
hind his nose and speak in his own natural voice. The heaven 
of popular approbation is to be taken only by storm. Emerson 
has startled the world by his Emersonisms, and not by echoes 
of Carlyle, as many imagine, for he is like Carlyle only in being 
original. Edgar A. Poe, with all his personal faults, eternised 
his name on the scroll of American authors simply by being 
Edgar A. Poe ; but who reads the legion parodies of ' The 
Raven ' ?* Cooper has won a great name as a novelist, though 
his writings are stuck as full of faults as the firmament with 
stars, while thousands of romances of equal ability have gone 
to the ' tomb of the Capulets,' because they have tried to be 
unlike themselves. Who can forget how, when Sir Walter 
Scott first kindled the torch of his genius at the fires of feudal 
poesy, working out new scenes of interest from the warblings 
of scalds and troubadours and minnesingers, his thrilling 
cadences were imitated by a whole forest of mocking-birds, 
who made the heavens vocal with the glories of mosstrooper 
and marauder, baron bold and gay ladye, hound in leash and 
hawk in hand, bastion huge and gray chapele, henchmen and 
servitors, slashed sleeves and Spanish boots, ' guns, trumpets, 



* We may note here, that open and avowed parodies do not come under 
the head of dishonest imitations or servile copies. They may be, and often 
are, original in the truest sense ; as, for instance, " The Rejected Addresses" 
by James and Horace Smith, and the very felicitous efforts of Mr. C. S. 

Calverley. 



1 8 8 B U SI NESS HABITS. 

blunderbusses, drums, and thunder ' ? No sooner had the 
Wizard of the North gracefully resigned his wand to a mightier 
Prospero, whose star of popularity had shot with a burst to the 
south, then, presto ! down went Rhoderick Dhu and Wat of 
Buccleuch before Hassan and Selim ; the paeans to Rosabelle 
were exchanged for the praises of Medora, the plaid and the 
bonnet for the white turban and the baggy trousers ; and over 
the whole realm of song arose the Oriental dynasty under the 
prime viziership of Byron. Ten thousand puny rhymesters 
called the moon 'Phingair,' daggers * attaghans,' drummers 
' Tambourgis,' and women ' Houris ; ' became lovers of gin and 
haters of pork ; discarded their neckcloths and put on sack- 
cloth ; strove perseveringly in turn-down collars to look Con- 
rad-like and misanthropic ; swore by the beard of the Prophet, 
and raved in Spenserian stanzas about their ' burning brows ' or 
mourned over their ' dark imaginings ; ' dreamed by night of 
gazelle-eyed beauties, by day of Giaours, jereedmen, and jani- 
zaries ; and, whether baker's, butcher's, or barber's apprentices 
became the oracles of impassioned wretchedness, and — when 
they could raise money enough — adventured on hacks hired 
by the hour imitations of Mazeppa at a hand-gallop along the 
highway. Where are they all now ? Alas ! the whole swarm 
of romances in six cantos with historical notes, alike with the 
ten thousand echoes of Byron, have long since gone to the land 
of forgetfulness ; or, if they live in an accommodated sense of 
the term, owe it to the tender mercies of the pastrycook and the 
trunkmaker." 



CHAPTER VI. 

BUSINESS MEN AND BUSINESS NOTES. 

"Let your first efforts be, not for wealth, but independence. Whatever 
be your talents, whatever your prospects, never be tempted to speculate 
away, on the chance of a palace, that which you need as a provision against 
the workhouse." — Lord Lytton. 

"Whoever has sixpence is sovereign over all men to the extent of that 
sixpence ; commands cooks to feed him, philosophers to teach him, kings 
to mount guard over him, to the extent of that sixpence." — Carlyle. 

" That man is but of the lower part of the world that is not brought up 
to business and affairs." — Owen Felt ham. 

" It is in vain to put wealth within the reach of him who will not stretch 
out his hand to take." — Dr. Johnson. 

" You will be invincible if you engage in no strife where you are not sure 
that it is in your power to conquer." — Fpicleius, " Fncheiridion." 

" Still let the mind be bent, still plotting where, 
And when, and how, the business may be done. ' 

— George Herbert. 



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CHAPTER VI. 



BUSINESS MEN AND BUSINESS NOTES. 



IN the preceding chapter we have indicated the qualities and 
and habits which would seem to be indispensable to the 
man of business. We have shown that he must be diligent 
exceedingly, gifted with an indomitable perseverance, patient, 
self-reliant, punctual, courteous and original in aim and 
method. According to the old adage, however, " Example 
is better than precept," and it may be for the advantage and 
interest of the reader, if, to those instances and illustrations 
already given, we add a variety of biographical reminiscences 
or anecdotes, occasionally pausing to draw from them an ap- 
propriate moral. 

Daniel Defoe, when discoursing upon mercantile morality in 
the England of Queen Anne's reign, notices, among other 
trade stratagems, the false light which some retail dealers in- 
troduced into their shops for the purpose of giving a delusive 
appearance to their wares. He comments severely upon the 
" shop rhetoric" and " the flow of falsehoods" which trades- 
men were wont to pour out upon their customers, and quotes 
their defence of the bad habit as based on the/' we must live" 
principle ; they could not keep up their trade without lying. 



192 £USINESS MEN. 

Add to which, he says, the fact that there was scarce a shop- 
keeper who had not a bag of spurious or debased coins which 
he imposed upon unwary customers whenever he had the 
opportunity. The latter practice has been rendered almost 
impossible by stringent legislation and an improved coinage ; 
but " shop rhetoric" is still too common, though we cannot 
but wonder on whom it now imposes. A superficial view of 
things would lead one to conclude that the great army of busi- 
ness men, dealers wholesale and retail, merchants, traders, 
shopkeepers — call them what you will — were engaged in a 
noble rivalry to supply the public with the finest commodities 
at the lowest possible prices. The tea and coffee offered for 
the breakfast table are invariably " of the best quality ;" the 
ales or wines which, in spite of Sir Wilfrid Lawson and the 
Good Templars, you consume at dinner, are of " a celebrated 
brewage" or the " finest vintage." Your fruit and vegetables 
are fresh from the garden or orchard, and " unequalled in 
flavor." The beef is of " prime quality," the mutton incredi- 
bly " tender," the bread made of " the finest wheat flour." If 
you go to your tailor, he recommends a cloth of which the 
like was never before in the market, and never will be again, 
and promises you a perfect fit." The newspaper you read has 
" the largest circulation in the world ;" the book you order is 
"the best that has been produced this season." If you think 
of purchasing a horse, you find that all the animals offered for 
sale are announced as " first-rate," " invaluable," the hand- 
somest in town," " perfectly quiet to drive or ride," " famed 
for their action," and " sold for no fault." The properties for 
which purchasers are desired puzzle you greatly, inasmuch as 
all are " exceedingly valuable," " most eligible," " delightfully 



TRADESMEN'S DEVICES. 1 93 

situated," " admirably adapted," fitted up with every con- 
venience. In truth, the wonder is how their owners or occu- 
pants could ever be induced to dispose of them ! It cannot 
be on account of any illness rendering a " change of air neces- 
sary," for a glance at the advertisement columns of a daily or 
weekly paper convinces you that for every disease under the 
sun science has discovered a cure. If people consent to die, 
it must be because they are weary of life, or in ignorance of 
the " infallible remedies" placed at their disposal. 

We believe that sobriety of taste and the highest morality 
will be found as profitable in trade as in any other calling ; 
and we fail to understand why " business " should be supposed 
to justify a relaxation or forgetfulness of the laws of religion. 
The merchant-princes of England, the men who have built 
up, and who maintain the stately edifice of her commercial 
prosperity, have never resorted to such paltry devices, nor 
forgotten that for them, as for the soldier, the artist, or the 
man of letters, the path of glory is the path of honor and 
duty. 

It is painful to be told that this high standard has of late 
years found fewer and fewer admirers, and that British com- 
mercial morality has become almost a legend of the past. So- 
ciety is startled ever and anon by revelations which seem to 
show that the trader laughs at honesty and exercises all his in- 
genuity to evade the law. A popular satirist has drawn a bit- 
terly humorous comparison between the roguery of British and 
Chinese traders, which the acts of our Legislature have proved 
to be no exaggeration. 

" According to a well-known writer, i a grocer is a man who 
buys and sells sugar, and plums, and spices for gain.' 



194 BUSINESS MEN. 

" Happy," says the satirist, " is the English grocer who can lay 
his hand upon his commercial heart, and, making answer to the 
text, say, ' I am the man ! ' For of the men who set over their 
shop-doors the designation of ' Grocer,' how many are there 
who buy and sell sugar, and sugar only ; who turn the penny 
upon spices in their purity ; vend nought but the true ware — 
the undoctored clove ! 

" Great is the villainy of the Chinese ; but it is written in 
certain books of the prying chemist that the roguery of the 
Briton — bent, it may be, upon the means of social respec- 
tability — doth outblush the pale face of the Mongolian trick- 
sters. 

" The Chinaman glazes his tea with Prussian blue ; he paints 
his Congo, and adds a perfume to his Twankey ; but he, the 
pig-tailed heathen, does not recognize in a Britisher a man 
and a brother, and, in his limited sympathies fails to acknowl- 
edge in any British maiden, of any fabulous age soever, a 
woman and a sister. The China teaman is a benighted bar- 
barian ; the British grocer is an effulgent Christian. The 
Chinaman's religion is the gust of revenge ; the Briton's creed 
is the creed of common love. 

" It is possible, if the effort be made, to drop a tear over the 
ignorance of the Chinamnn who dusts his faded tea-leaves with 
chromate of lead ; but shall not one's eyes flash fire at the en- 
lightened British tea-dealer who to the withered leaf imparts 
the mortal glow of plumbago ? Nevertheless, there are grocers 
in the commercial form of men, who treat the stomachs of 
their customers as their customers treat their stoves — namely, 
they bestow upon their internals the questionable polish of 
- blacklead, innocently swallowed in cups of liquid worse and 



AD UL TERA TION. T 95 

blacker than the Lacedemonian black broth. How many an 
innocent tea-loving spinster, proud of the jetty loveliness of her 
fireplace, would vent a spasm of horror did she know that the 
polish of her own stove and the bloom of her own black tea, 
fragrant and smoking at her lips, were of one and the same 
blacklead — of lead that, in due sufficiency, is akin to coffin 
lead ! And the English grocer, intent upon deceit, outvies, 
say the chemists, the teamen of the Flowery Kingdom. There 
is not a toss-up between the two ; and if there be, though 
China beats by a tail, England fails not to win by a head. 

" Of coffee (a word still found in some of the dictionaries) it 
is hardly necessary to speak ; the acres of chicory, wherein 
the pious grocer as well as his customers may ' walk forth to 
muse at eventide,' have a language and a lesson of their own. 
It may be added, however, that perhaps there is not a more 
touching, a more instructive, and withal a more pathetic pic- 
ture than either man or woman complacently employed in 
drinking what the drinker, in more than primitive innocence, 
believes to be coffee — grocer's coffee, at one shilling per 
pound ! " 

Thus wrote Douglas Jerrold some years ago. Recent legis- 
lative measures against adulteration assure us that the prac- 
tices which he condemned have by no means been abandoned. 
But legislation cannot enforce the true principles of commer- 
cial morality, either in the shop, or the banker's counting- 
house, or " on 'Change," or in our shipowner's parlors, though 
it may prevent their more open and glaring violations. What 
we have to do is to inspire our young men, when entering upon 
a business life, with a profound sense of duty — to train them to 
habits of well-doing and right-thinking — to convince them that 



196 BUSINESS MEN 

the ethics of Christianity ought to govern them in all their 
dealings — and to cultivate in their hearts that spirit of piety, 
benevolence, purity, and rectitude which distinguishes the true 
gentleman. 

The history of business is bright with examples of the keen- 
est commercial energy and enterprise, combined with the sin- 
cerest and most unaffected piety. Trade has not necessarily 
the demoralising or hardening effect attributed to it by super- 
cilious novelists, who seldom introduce into their works any 
representations of " business men " undisfigured by foolish 
prejudice. A man cannot serve both God and Mammon, but 
he can do his best as a tradesman or a merchant without 
neglecting his duty as a follower of the Divine Master. 

Take the example of William Cotton, the engineer, one of 
the principal partners of the firm of Huddart & Co., and one 
of the earliest promotors of the application of steam to navi- 
gation. He rose so rapidly in public estimation, that in 1821 
he was elected a director of the Bank of England, a post 
which he held for forty-five years, and gave up only a few 
months before his death in 1866. Many reforms and modifi- 
cations in that famous establishment sprang from his strong 
sagacity, his knowledge of the true principles of finance, and 
his accurate insight into the character and capacity of those 
who worked under or with him. From 1843 to 1845 he acted 
as governor of the Bank, at the time when the Bank charter 
was being framed by the late Sir Robert Peel. The latter 
found in William Cotton a clear and honest adviser, deliberate 
but firm in judgment, with no personal interest to serve, and 
unsparing in his labor. In order that this great measure might 
be carried to a successful issue, the governor of the Bank was 



WILLIAM COTTON. 1 97 

constantly in attendance under the gallery of the House of 
Commons (not being himself a member of the House), in 
order that Sir Robert Peel might be able to consult him on any 
doubtful point. Often, too, in the middle of the night, a mes- 
senger would come to Walwood asking for further information. 
* * His fellow-directors of the Bank conferred on 
Mr. Cotton the unprecedented honor of a third election as 
governor, in order that he might carry to its conclusion the 
work which had been begun under his auspices. It was at 
this period also that the mechanical bent of his mind showed 
itself in full power. The necessity of weighing all the gold 
coinage of the kingdom, much of which had become light 
through use, led him to consider the possibility of doing this 
by an automatic weighing-machine. The result was the pres- 
ent self-acting weighing-machine, far exceeding, not only in 
rapidity, but in accuracy, the steadiest and most practiced 
hand, and it is still at work at the Bank, at the Mint, and in 
many local establishments, just as it was at first designed by 
the governor of the Bank. " It was exhibited at the Exhibi- 
tion of 1 85 1, and of it one of the profoundest reasoners of 
our day declared that it seemed to him the perfection of 
mechanical ingenuity, — that the machine itself seemed almost 
to think during the pause which ensued between the reception 
of the sovereign into the scale and its delivery into its appro- 
priate place, either as a light or full weight coin. The machine 
has been appropriately named l The Governor.' " 

This was one and a notable aspect of his life. But far 
brighter was that other aspect in which he was seen as the 
Christian philanthropist untiring in all good works. Hospitals, 
and churches, and schools, — all were indebted to his splendid 



I98 BUSINESS MEN. 

and well-directed liberality. To the great charitable societies 
he gave of his time, his talents, and his substance. From the 
outset of his career he devoted a tenth of his profits to pious 
and benevolent objects ; and as his gains increased he rejoiced 
to think that his " commission fund " also increased. 

Such men a»s these throw a pure and beautiful light upon the 
ways of commerce, and testify to the fact that in treading them 
it is possible to preserve an upright bearing, and to keep our 
eyes fixed upon the crown of life. A noble type of the English 
merchant may be put forward in the late Sir William Brown, of 
Liverpool, who began business in the great Lancashire seaport 
in 1 8 10, at the age of twenty-six. His activity and shrewdness, 
his patience and perseverance, and his readiness of resource, 
soon raised him to an influential position ; and having erected 
his fortunes on a solid basis, he felt himself free to take part in 
civic affairs. For his labors in reforming the administration of 
the docks he received the thanks of his fellow-citizens in 1833. 
He had previously been elected a director of the Bank of 
Liverpool, and he assisted in establishing a celebrated line of 
steam-packets to ply between Liverpool and the United States. 
In 1836 he purchased the Brandon estate, near Coventry, for 
^80,000, and it was estimated that, in the same year, business 
to the amount of ^"10,000,000 passed through his hands. His 
extensive connection with American traders, to whom he fre- 
quently made large advances, involved him in the anxieties 
connected with the great failure of the American banks in 1837, 
and it was feared that his house, wealthy as it was, could never 
withstand the shock. " Had he and his partners possessed less 
than the strength of giants," it is said, " they could not have 
extricated themselves. The British Government saw, and 



WILLI A M BRO WN. 1 99 

looked with apprehension as it saw, the struggle of this gigantic 
establishment. From Inverness to Penzance there was not a 
single town but would have felt its fall. In Sheffield, and Bir- 
mingham, and the towns surrounding them, in Manchester, 
Leeds, and all the great factory communities, a large number 
of merchants and employers, and, as a matter of course, every 
man and woman employed, were more or less involved in the 
fate of this establishment. Caring little for himself, but very 
much for the public, William Brown took the bold step of visit- 
ing London, where he had an interview with the chairman of 
the Bank of England, and after stating his position and his 
resources, obtained the promise of a loan of no less an amount 
than ^2,000,000. In the end he found it necessary to draw 
only half this sum, which with interest he repaid within six 
months, receiving a complimentary letter from the authorities 
to the effect that they had never had a more satisfactory tran- 
saction with any house." 

After energetically espousing movements in favor of a penny 
postage, early closing, temperance, and healthful recreation for 
the working classes, he became an active supporter of free 
trade, and a member of the Anti-Corn-Law League. Mean- 
time his prosperity as a merchant and a banker continued on 
the increase. " If any of you know " said Richard Cobden, 
" what a bale of cotton is, you are only one remove from a near 
acquaintance with Mr. Brown, who has in his hands one-sixth 
part of the trade between this country and the United States. 
There is hardly a wind that blows or a tide that flows in the 
Mersey that does not bring a ship freighted with cotton or some 
other costly commodity for Mr. Brown's house ; and not a 
lorry in the streets but what is destined to carry cloth or other 



200 BUSINESS MEN 

commodities, consigned to the care of Mr. Brown, to be shipped 
to America, China, or other parts of the world." 

In 1846, at the age of sixty-two, Mr. Brown was elected M.P. 
for South Lancashire, and he sat in Parliament for thirteen 
years. Though by no means an effective debater, his speeches 
commanded attention by the amount of information which they 
conveyed. On the occasion of Lord Palmerston's quarrel with 
the United States Government, who had somewhat hastily dis- 
missed the British Minister at Washington, Mr. Brown acted 
as a mediator ; and his commercial influence and upright cha- 
racter crowned his efforts with success. It was a noble work 
to prevent two great nations, akin in race and language, from 
drawing the sword upon each other for a diplomatic punctilio. 
It was a work worthy of a British merchant and a Christian 
philanthropist. And surely we should not despise the calling 
which places a man in a position to do such a work. 

We cannot, nor is it necessary for the proof of our thesis, 
that we should, dwell upon all the generous actions of William 
Brown. He may be said to have consummated them by his 
last — the foundation of the Free Library of Liverpool, at a 
cost of some ^45,000. Three years later, public testimony 
was born to his " success in life" by his appointment as High 
Sheriff of Lancashire and his promotion to a baronetcy. He 
died on the 3d of March, 1864, at the age of seventy-nine. 

The name of the Messrs. Chambers has been rendered 
familiar to English-speaking people all over the world by the 
well-known " Journal " and the scarcely less well-known 
"Encyclopaedia," not to speak of other publications which 
have ministered largely to the moral and intellectual cultiva- 
tion of the masses. The high reputation of the firm is due, in 



ROBERT CHAMBERS. 201 

no small degree, to the literary labors of Dr. Robert Chambers. 

He was born at Peebles, on the banks of the Tweed, on the 
ioth of July, 1802, two years later than his brother William, 
with whom he was afterwards so closely associated in the pub- 
lishing business. They were the sons of James Chambers, a 
muslin weaver, whose reverses of fortune compelled him to 
remove to Edinburgh while his sons were still in their early 
boyhood. They had already received, however a certain 
modicum of education at the burgh school, and at the hands 
of their old nurse and one Tarn Flack, a Peebles " character." 
At Edinburgh their education was continued and completed 
at the High School. It was neither very wide nor very deep, 
but it served young Robert Chambers well, when, at the age 
of sixteen, having saved up a sum of about forty shillings, he 
opened a bookshop or book-stall in Lei.th Street. Of the 
struggles of his early years he supplies an interesting sketch 
in a letter to Hugh Miller, the geologist. 

" Notwithstanding your wonderful success as a writer," he 
says, " I think my literary tendency must have been a deeper 
and more absorbing peculiarity than yours, seeing that I took 
to Latin and to books both keenly and exclusively, while you 
broke down in your classical course, and had fully as great a 
passion for rough sport and enterprise as for reading, that 
being again a passion for which I never had one particle. 
This, however, has resulted in making you what I never was 
inclined to be, a close observer of external nature — an immense 
advantage in your case. Still, I think I could present against 
your hardy field observations by firth and fell, and cave and 
cliff, some striking analogies in the finding out and devouring 
of books, making my way, for instance, through a whole chest- 



202 BUSINESS MEN 

ful of the ' Encyclopaedia Britannica,' which I found in a 
lumber garret. I must also say that an unfortunate tender- 
ness of feet, scarcely yet got over, had much to do in making 
me mainly a fireside student. As to domestic connections and 
conditions, mine being of the middle classes, were superior to 
yours for the first twelve years. After that, my father being 
unfortunate in business, we were reduced to poverty, and came 
down to even humbler things than you experienced. I passed 
through some years of the direst hardship, not the least evil 
being a state of feeling quite unnatural in youth — a stern and 
burning defiance of a social world in which we were harshly 
and coldly treated by former friends, differing only in external 
respects from ourselves. In your life there is one crisis where 
I think your experiences must have been somewhat like mine ; 
it is the brief period at Inverness. Some of your expressions 
there bring all my own early feelings again to life. A disparity 
between the internal consciousness of power and accomplish- 
ments and the external ostensible aspect led in me to the very 
same wrong methods of setting myself forward as in you. 
There, of course, I meet you in warm sympathy. I have 
sometimes thought of describing my bitter, painful youth to 
the world as something in which it might read a lesson ; but 
the retrospect is still too distressing. I screen it from the 
mortal eye. The one grand fact it has impressed is the very 
small amount of brotherly assistance there is for the unfortu- 
nate in this world. * * * Till I proved that I could help 
myself, no friend came to me. Uncles, cousins, etc., in good 
positions in life, not one offered, nor seemed inclined to give, 
the smallest assistance. The consequent defying, self-relying 
spirit in which at sixteen I set out as a bookseller, with only 



ROBERT CHAMBERS. 203 

my own small collection of books as a stock — not worth more 
than two pounds, I believe — led to my being quickly inde- 
pendent of all aid ; but it has not been all a gain, for I am 
now sensible that my spirit of self-reliance too often manifested 
itself in an unsocial, unamiable light, while my recollections of 
honest poverty may have made me too eager to attain and 
secure worldly prosperity." 

Robert Chambers made his first venture in the literary world 
as editor of a small weekly journal, the Kaleidoscope, which 
he himself published, and his brother William printed, the 
latter for this purpose having acquired without assistance the 
art of printing, and purchased an old font of type and a 
clumsy wooden press. The font was imperfect, and when 
large letters were wanted, William Chambers sat up at night 
and carved them with his penknife out of a piece of wood. As 
might have been expected, the Kaleidoscope had but a brief 
career. Nothing daunted, Robert again entered the field, 
making use of his knowledge of the Tweed country to compile 
a volume of " Illustrations of the Author of Waverley ; " agree- 
ably written sketches of the supposed originals from whom Sir 
Walter Scott had drawn his more famous characters. The 
book attracted considerable attention, and Scott mentions the 
author in his diary as " a clever young fellow, who spoils him- 
himself by too much haste." 

In 1823, when he was still only twenty years of age, he wrote 
and published his " Traditions of Edinburgh." Its literary 
merit met with immediate recognition, and its young author 
found that he had now securely planted his feet on the ladder 
of fortune. Prosperity did not abate his industry. His dili- 
gent pen, always lively and accurate, produced in rapid succes- 



204 BUSINESS MEN. 

sion a number of works of an antiquarian and historical char- 
acter, among which may be mentioned his " History of the 
Scottish Rebellion," and his " Biographical Dictionary of Em- 
inent Scotsmen." 

The great reputation of the two brothers as publishers dates 
from 1832, when (on the 6th of February) they issued the first 
number of their Edinburgh Journal, which undoubtedly struck 
a hitherto unexplored vein of periodical literature. Its success 
was remarkable. It immediately obtained a circulation of five 
thousand copies a week, which increased in 1845, when the oc- 
tavo form was adopted, to nine thousand copies. The two 
brothers, now on the highroad to competency, entered into 
formal partnership, and thenceforth enjoyed an equal measure 
of well-deserved prosperity ; both of them trained by hard ex- 
perience to habits of business and punctuality, both of them 
strictly prudent and conscientious in all their dealings, and 
both of them practised, according to their different aims and 
tendencies, in literary labor. 

A writer has essayed to account for the colossal prosperity 
of the Rothschilds, and it must be admitted that, whether he 
is correct in his reference to that famous firm or not, he states 
a couple of considerations well worth the attention of business 
men. He who does not delay for casualties, and has the 
sagacity to perceive that in all great affairs success depends 
not only on the choice and use of the most favorable moment, 
but especially on the pursuit of an acknowledged fundamental 
maxim, has seized upon the two principles never neglected, it 
is said, by the Rothschilds ; the two principles to which, com- 
bined with a wary conduct of business, and a quick perception 
of advantageous opportunities, they owe, in the main, their 
present wealth and renown. 



THE ROTHSCHILDS. 205 

It was the first of these principles that led the five brothers 
to carry on their affairs in a perpetual and uninterrupted com- 
munication. This was the golden rule enunciated by their 
father's dying lips. After his death, every proposition, be it 
what it might, was the object of their common deliberations. 
Every important undertaking was the result of combined effort, 
and all shared equally in the profit as in the loss. Though for 
several years their customary residences, being in the great 
capitals of Europe, were very remote, the harmony of this 
singularly family council was never interrupted, while they de- 
rived from this circumstance a peculiar advantage in being al- 
ways well acquainted with the condition of affairs in every 
metropolis. Each of them was thus enabled on his part to 
assist in initiating and mapping out the operations to be under- 
taken by the firm. 

The second principle of which the Rothschilds have never 
lost sight is, not to seek in any transaction an excessive profit ; 
to assign certain limits — though, of course, in proportion to the 
magnitude of their means — to every enterprise ; and, so far as 
lies within the power of human prudence, to place themselves 
above the reach of accidents. 

The most eminent of the five brothers was, undoubtedly, 
Nathan Meyer Rothschild, who possessed in perfection the 
qualities indispensable to a prosperous man of business, but 
lacked some of those which are not less indispensable to the 
worthy employment of God's precious gift of life. Money 
with him was an end rather than a means, and his delight in 
acquisition completely absorbed him. He had no time or 
thought to spare for the cultivation of " the humanities " or 
the exercise of a wise charity. All his energies were directed 



206 BUSINESS MEN. 

to the successful conduct of operations for adding to his ever- 
increasing store. " I hope," said Fowell Buxton to him on 
one occasion, " I hope that your children are not too fond of 
money and business, to the exclusion of more important things. 
I am sure you would not wish that." " I am sure I should 
wish that," answered Rothschild. " I wish them to give mind 
and soul, and heart and body — everything, to business. That 
is the way to be happy. It requires a great deal of boldness 
and a great deal of caution to make a great fortune ; and 
when you have got it, it requires ten times as much wit to keep 
it." Accordingly, to make and keep a fortune, were, in Roths- 
child's eyes, the only objects for which a man should live. 
Yet the sword of Damocles hung suspended over his head by 
a hair. A constant shadow overspread his path. " You must 
be a very happy man," said a thoughtless guest to the great 
financier, at one of his magnificent banquets. " Happy ! me 
happy ! " he exclaimed. " What ! happy ! when just as you 
are going to dine, you have a letter placed in your hands say- 
ing, - If you do not send me £s°° I will blow your brains out ! ' 
Me happy ! " 

On one occasion, when he was sitting in his private room, a 
couple of strangers were announced ; foreigners, with thick 
moustaches and dark long beards, less common forty years ago 
than now. From the moment of their entrance the timorous 
banker was in a state of panic. He misinterpreted the excited 
movements with which they searched their pockets ; and, 
before the expected pistols could be produced, had flung a 
great ledger in the direction of their heads, and summoned a 
posse of clerks by his shouts of " Murder ! " The strangers 
were immediately pinioned ; but, explanations following, they 



ROTHSCHILD AT WATERLOO. 20y 

proved to be wealthy bankers from the Continent, who, in their 
nervousness at finding themselves in the presence of the great 
Napoleon of finance, had experienced some difficulty in find- 
ing their letters of introduction. 

A good story of a different kind is told of this eccentric 
personage. A German prince on a visit to London had letters 
of credit which he called to deliver. He was shown into the 
inner room of the celebrated counting-house in St. Swithin's 
Lane, where Rothschild sat with a pile of papers before him. 
The name being announced, Rothschild nodded, offered him 
a chair, and then proceeded with his work. For such indiffer- 
ence the prince, who expected that the banker would be over- 
awed by his rank and dignity, was not prepared. He remained 
standing, and, after a minute or two's pause, exclaimed, " Did 

you not hear, sir, who I am ? I am the Prince of ," and 

he repeated all his titles. " Very well," answered Rothschild, 
" take two chairs." 

He gave a striking proof of his energy, keenness, and 
unscrupulousness, in the way he availed himself of his knowl- 
edge of Napoleon's defeat at Waterloo. During the great 
battle of the 18th June, he was posted near the chateau of 
Hougoumont, watching the progress of the fight as closely as 
did Wellington himself. All day long he followed it with 
straining eyes as it eddied to and fro, involving in its issues the 
fate of kingdoms. At sunset he saw that the victory was with 
Wellington and the Allies. Without a moment's delay he 
mounted a horse that had been kept in readiness for him and 
hurried homeward. At regular stages on his road relays of 
horses and carriages were in waiting to help him onward. 
Riding or driving through all the summer night, he reached 



208 BUSINESS MEN. 

Ostend at daybreak, to find the sea so stormy that the boat- 
men refused to venture forth. At last he prevailed upon a 
fisherman by a bribe of £%o to put to sea, and reached Dover 
in safety. At Dover, and at the intermediate stages on the 
road to London, relays were posted, and he was in London 
before midnight. 

Next morning, the 20th of June, he was one of the first to 

enter the Stock Exchange. In gloomy whispers he told those 

who, as usual, pressed round him to hear the news, that Blu- 

cher and his Prussians had been routed by Napoleon before 

Wellington had had time to come up, that by himself he could 

not possibly succeed, and that, therefore, the cause of England 

and her Allies was lost. As he had intended, the funds fell 

rapidly. Everybody was anxious to sell ; and Rothschild and 

his accredited agents laughed at all who offered them scrip for 

purchase. But scores of unknown agents were secretly at 

work all that day and the next. Before the Stock Exchange 

closed on the afternoon of the 21st, when Nathan Rothschild's 

strong boxes were full of paper, he announced, an hour or two 

earlier than the arrival of the news through other channels, 

the real issue of the battle Rapidly the funds rose to a level 

they had not reached for months ; and it is estimated that 

Rothschild cleared a million pounds by his combined energy 

and unscrupulousness. 

In several respects we should point to Rothschild's conduct 
as an example of what to avoid. The story of his mercury 
transactions is another illustration of his character. The mer- 
cury used in Europe comes almost entirely from Idria in Illyria 
or Almaden in Spain. The Almaden mines, after a profitable 
career of many centuries, had fallen for some years into disuse 



JOHN JACOB AS TOR. 209 

before 1831, when Rothschild, having contracted for a Spanish 
loan, proposed that he should be alloAved to hold them for a 
certain time at a nominal rental. To this proposition a cheer- 
ful assent was given, and the mines soon gave evidence of 
renewed activity. In a similar manner the financier obtained 
possession of the mines of Idria, and having thus acquired a 
monopoly of the supply of mercury, doubled its price. 

Almost Rothschild's rival in wealth and fortune, John Jacob 
Astor, the American merchant, was scarcely his inferior in 
financial daring and commercial talent. He was the youngest 
of the four sons of a peasant, and passed his boyhood in the 
healthy occupations and simple pleasures of a rural life. From 
a child he was accustomed to rise early, and to devote a portion 
of his morning hours to reading the Bible and Prayer-Book ; a 
practice which he observed throughout his long career. His 
brothers seem to have shared his bold and energetic disposition, 
for two of them preceded him across the limits of the Rhine 
and the Black Forest, one establishing himself as a musical 
instrument maker in London, and the other settling in the 
United States. 

At the age of sixteen, John Jacob accepted an invitation 
I from his brother in London to join him in his business ; and 
saying farewell to his parents, he trudged on foot to a Dutch 
seaport, and thence sailed in a Dutch smack to England. In 
his new position he displayed all the sterling qualities of his 
manly character ; but it did not open a field of enterprise wide 
enough to satisfy his exuberant activity. At the age of twenty 
he sailed for Baltimore, carrying with him a few hundred dol- 
lars' worth of musical instruments to dispose of on commission. 
This was in 1783, a few months after Great Britain had recog- 



210 BUSINESS MEN 

nized American independence. The vessel on reaching Chesa- 
peake Bay was caught in a terrible storm. To the surprise of 
his fellow passengers, Astor appeared upon deck, attired in his 
best suit. To the inquiries addressed to him, he replied, " If I 
save my life, it shall be in my best clothes ; if I perish, it mat- 
ters not what becomes of them." 

During the voyage he had made the acquaintance of a shrewd 
and communicative furrier, and acting upon his suggestions, he 
exchanged his musical instruments in New York for furs, with 
which he immediately returned to London. Having disposed 
of them at a considerable profit, he prepared to recross the 
Atlantic, and apply himself entirely to the fur trade. In Lon- 
don he studied the Continental fur markets, and made himself 
familiar with every variety of the article. On returning to the 
United States, he set up his residence at New York, which 
thenceforth became the headquarters of his operations. It is 
possible that consignments from his brother assisted him during 
his first wrestlings with fortune, but his energy was chiefly de- 
voted to the fur trade. In pursuing his business he occasionally 
visited London, and, more frequently, Montreal and the distant 
trading ports in Canada. When the treaty negotiated by Mr. 
Jay in 1794 removed the obstructions that had previously re- 
stricted the export of furs, he was prepared to take advantage 
of the new order of things through his extensive acquaintance 
with the trappers and traders of the West and North ; and was 
soon able to reap a double profit by sending his furs to Europe 
and the East in his own ships, and bringing back cargoes of 
foreign produce for sale in New York. His business extended 
until it embraced markets in every quarter of the globe ; yet 
so exact was his knowledge of these markets, and so wide the 



JOHN J A COB A S TOR. 2 1 1 

grasp of his strong clear intellect, that he was able to direct and 
control the action of his super-cargoes and captains by the most 
minute instructions. At this time, when his ships covered the 
seas, he rose as early as in his years of effort, and attended to 
his business until 2 p. m. He was fond of showing his work- 
men that in sorting and beating furs he was equal to the best 
of them. This thorough knowledge of one's work, even to the 
smallest details, is of the highest value to the man of business. 
At the beginning of the present century, Astor was worth 
250,000 dollars as the result of only sixteen years of business 
life. He then began to meditate colossal schemes, not only of 
trade, but of colonisation, designing not only to supply with 
furs all the markets of the world, but also to open up the Western 
wilderness to the influences of civilization. He was possessed 
with the true enthusiasm of business, and brought to his work 
as much earnestness as an explorer to the discovery of new 
regions. He did not confine, he could not confine, his activity 
to the fur trade. For instance, he began at an early date to 
make investments in real estate in New York, and in the swift 
progress of the city some portions of his property, it was said, 
centrupled on his hands. Many public and private buildings 
of a superior character were erected by Astor. His fortune, 
the largest ever accumulated in the United States at the time 
of his death, was estimated at 20,000,000 dollars (^4,000,000), 
an amount which surely should satisfy the aspirations of the 
most passionate votaries of the goddess Pecunia ! It has been 
said of him that, during the half century of his laborious career, 
he hardly made a mistake or a false step through any failure of 
his own judgment. " Until his fifty-fifth year, he was at his 
office before seven o'clock. He was a great horseman, and in 



212 B USINESS MEN. 

the constant habit of riding out for pleasure and exercise. In 
the strength of his general grasp of a great subject, he did not 
allow himself to be too much disturbed by the consideration of 
details. His mind worked so actively, that he soon got through 
the business of a day, and he would leave his office earlier than 
many business men who did less. Troubled and annoyed by 
petty trials, he was calm and self-possessed under great ones. 
'Keep cool — keep civil,' was the constant and familiar admoni- 
tion from his lips. When the great trials came, his spirit rose 
with the emergency, and he was equal to the hour." This 
splendidly successful merchant died in March, 1848, at the age 
of eighty-four. By his will he bequeathed a sum of ^"80,000 
to found a free public library in the city of New York. 

The men of money who know how to make a right use of it 
are scarcely less the world's benefactors than its statesmen and 
philanthropists. A celebrated American millionaire made it a 
practice to give away considerable sums both for public and 
private purposes, exercising always a wise discrimination and 
carefully avoiding parade. It appeared from his books that in 
this way he annually expended a very large amount, known at 
the time only to " Him who seeth in secret." Not long before 
his death he observed to one of his sons, that " of all the ways 
of disposing of money, giving it away was the most satisfactory." 

We have read of a Boston merchant, who, in like manner, 
recognized that he was intended by Providence to act as its 
almoner, and whose wealth was known by the splendor of his 
munificence. Yet it was not always from what is strictly desig- 
nated " affluence " that his benevolence proceeded, inasmuch 
as he had voluntarily pledged himself never to become excep- 
tionally rich. After his death the following document was found 



MERCHANT PRINCES. 2 1 3 

in his handwriting : — " By the grace of God, I will never be 
worth more than fifty thousand dollars. By the grace of God, 
I will give one-fourth of the net profits of my business to chari- 
table and religious uses. If I am ever worth twenty thousand 
dollars, I will give one half of my net profits ; and if I am ever 
worth thirty thousand, I will give three-fourths ; and the whole 
after fifty thousand. So help me God, or give to a more faith- 
ful steward, and set me aside." To this covenant he adhered 
with the most scrupulous fidelity. At one time, finding that 
his property had increased beyond fifty thousand dollars, he at 
once devoted the surplus, seven thousand five hundred, to found 
a professorship in a theological college, to which he also gave, 
on various occasions during his brief life, twice that amount. 
He likewise befriended with a liberal hand numerous young 
men, assisting them to start in business, and relieving many 
who were unfortunate. 

Of Gladstone, the Liverpool merchant, father of the eminent 
statesman, it is said that he was " every inch a merchant-prince ; 
keen, energetic, industrious, and persevering ; cautious and 
prudent, yet withal liberal and generous, without being lavish 
or needlessly profuse." The race for wealth was not suffered 
by him to absorb all his faculties or engage his whole time. 
He estimated justly the real value of money He did not make 
it his only aim and object, though he did not pretend to feel for 
it a philosophic contempt. 

Pleasure must necessarily occupy a very small place in the 
life of a man of business. He may find time for charity and for 
the performance of his religious duties, and, let us hope, for the 
cultivation of the domestic affections ; but otherwise, he is the 
slave of labor, and bound, Ixion-like, to a wheel which se^ms 



214 B USINE SS MEN. 

to be for ever revolving. Among the many cares which wealth 
brings with it is that of guarding against its dissipation. It is 
easy to lose a fortune ; and such is now-a-days the rush of com- 
petition, so furious is the struggle, so desperate the race, that it 
is only by constant thought and vigilance a great merchant can 
maintain the position originally won by assiduous diligence and 
steady application. He is like a man rowing against a strong 
current : so long as he plies his oars lustily he may advance, 
but if he pause only for a moment he is carried backward. The 
toil undergone by the head of a large commercial establishment, 
or a great employer of labor, is so severe that no one should 
undertake it who does not feel himself to be capable of the most 
absolute self-sacrifice and the most continuous effort. And it 
is as purely mental toil, hard brain-work, as that of the mathe- 
matician poring over his abstruse problems and intricate calcu- 
lations. Nor is it always selfish toil. The merchant knows 
that he gives employment to a considerable number of hands, 
and that any sudden suspension or contraction of his operations 
would involve them and their families in the sufferings of pov- 
erty He knows that the capital has its responsibilities, and, 
as a rule, he is conscientiously anxious to discharge them fully. 

We have been much impressed by the perusal of a sketch of 
the life-work of the New York merchant-prince, William Astor, 
and reproduce it here as affording a vivid picture of the unre- 
mitting labor of a man of business. 

The locality of his financial operations is, or was, Prince 
Street, New York, a street described as " of but a third-rate 
character," with houses of " a common stamp." Near Broad- 
way may be seen a small brick office, neatly built, of one 
story, with gable to the street, and doors and windows closed, 



WILLIAM A S TOR. 2 1 5 

its whole appearance being that of " security." Close to the 
door a little affiche reads as follows : " Entrance next door. 
Office hours from 9 to 3." This "next door" proves to be a 
plain three-story dwelling of red brick, which, from its unpre- 
tentious but substantial character, might be mistaken for the 
residence of some respectable old-fashioned family. On in- 
quiry, however, we learn that it is the headquarters of the prince 
of American capitalists. 

Entering at the street door, we find ourselves in a small 
vestibule, the floor of which is covered with " checkered oil- 
cloth," and opening a door on the left, we pass into a well- 
lighted front room, without any other furniture than a counting- 
house desk and a few chairs. At this desk stands an account- 
ant working at a set of books, and enjoying apparently " an 
easy berth." He will answer all ordinary inquiries, will refuse 
all begging applications, and attend to all matters within the 
usual scope of business ; but if you have any special errand, 
he points to a door opening into an office in the rear. 

This apartment proves to be of moderate size and simply furn- 
ished. A few books lie upon the table, and opening one of 
them, which appears to be frequently consulted, we find that it 
contains maps of plots of city property, carefully executed, and 
indicating the bounderies of a vast estate. Seated at the table 
may generally be seen " a stout-built man with large and unat- 
tractive features, upon the whole an ordinary face. He is 
plainly dressed, and has a somewhat careworn look, and appears 
to be fifty or sixty years of age." We feel — that is, if we our- 
selves belong to the rank and file of society — a certain amount 
of awe in addressing a capitalist, and especially a capitalist who 
represents some 25,000,000 dollars G£5, 000,000), and whose 
daily income has been estimated at 6,000 dollars. 



2l6 BUSINESS MEN. 

The care of Mr. Astor's estate, the largest in America, is, 
says our authority (and we can well believe it), " a vast burden." 
The houses belonging to him number several hundreds, and 
range from the comparatively modest tenement at £60 per 
annum to magnificent warehouses rented at £600. " To relieve 
himself from the more vexatious features of his business, he has 
committed his real estate collections to an agent, who, with his 
clerks, collects rents and makes returns of a rent-roll the very 
recital of which would be wearisome. As a matter of course, 
such a man must supply a small army of painters, carpenters, 
and other mechanics, in order to keep up suitable repairs ; and 
as Mr. Astor pays no insurance, the work of rebuilding after 
fires is in itself a large item. A large part of Mr. Astor's prop- 
erty consists of vacant lots, which are in continual demand, and 
which he generally prefers to hold rather than sell ; hence he is 
much employed with architects and master-builders, and always 
has several blocks in course of erection. This is a very heavy 
burden, and were it not for the help derived from his family 
would doubtless crush him." Who will say that the man of 
business treads a " primrose path " in life ? Who will say that 
he is not, in the strictest sense of the term, a " working man "? 

A strange mixture of business shrewdness and religious feel- 
ing was the late John McDonogh, the New Orleans millionaire, 
who was born in 1779 and died in 1850. The following 
sketch of his life, from an American source, is not without 
interest : — 

The only particulars known of his early life seem to be, that 
he was a clerk in a mercantile store in an inland town of 
Maryland, where he was noted for his eccentricities, and for an 
excess of imaginative fervor, which led many to suspect that he 



JOHN McDONOGH, 217 

was not entirely of sound mind. He displayed, nevertheless, 
an energy and an intelligence which secured him the full 
confidence of his employers. About the year 1800 he was 
despatched to New Orleans by a Baltimore firm with a letter 
of credit and considerable resources. He there engaged largely 
in business transactions, speedily giving up his position as 
agent, and starting on his own account. Prosperity crowned 
his exertions, and in a few years he amassed a very consider- 
able fortune. New Orleans recognized him as one of its 
magnates ; and his mode of living and his expenditure were in 
entire conformity to his position and abundant means. His 
mansion was furnished and fitted up in the most luxurious style. 
He had his carriages and his horses, and his cellar of rare 
wines, and his staff of well-trained servants ; and his entertain- 
ments were all on a scale of the greatest magnificence. Not- 
withstanding his unremitting attention to business, he found 
time to become a great social luminary and leader of fashion. 

Owing to a disappointment in love, McDonogh eventually 
became morose in his manners and secluded in his habits ; but 
he prosecuted his acquisition of property with increased vigor, 
his peculiar passion being that of accumulating countless acres 
of waste and suburban land. All his views branched out into 
the remote future. He cared not for the present value and 
productiveness of an estate. His imagination luxuriated in 
possibilities, and he loved to think of the opulence and civiliza- 
tion that would cover his barren and swampy wilderness in the 
"good time coming." At last, this passion gained such an 
ascendancy over him, that he seemed to rejoice in desolation. 
He would buy cultivated places, and allow them to go to ruin. 

" He could not be induced," says his biographer, " by any 



2 1 8 B USINESS MEN, 

offer or consideration to alienate any of the property he had 
once acquired. Abstemious to a fault, and withholding him- 
self from all the enjoyments and associations of the world, he 
devoted his time to the care of his large estate, to the suits in 
which such acquisitions constantly involved him, working for 
seventeen hours out of the twenty-four, the greater part of 
which labor consisted in writing the necessary documents re- 
lating to his titles, and in corresponding with his lawyers and 
his overseers. For the fifty years of his residence in New 
Orleans he never left the State, and rarely, if ever, passed be- 
yond the limits of the corporation He was not a usurer, a 
money-lender, or a speculator. He acquired by legitimate pur- 
chases by entries on public lands. He dealt altogether in 
land. Stocks, merchandise, and other personal securities, were 
eschewed by him. The wonder is, how, with a comparatively 
small revenue, his property not being productive, and his favor- 
ite policy being to render his lands wild and unsuited for 
cultivation, he was able to go on every year expanding the area 
of his vast possessions." 

McDonogh appears to have been the victim of a veritable 
earth-hunger. One of his cherished designs was the purchase of 
the plantations along the Mississippi, in the belief that at some 
future p :riod they would teem with a busy population. In like 
manner, he pounced eagerly upon all lands for sale in the 
neighborhood of the towns and villages of the State. It may 
be mentioned, as one of his most remarkable achievements, the 
completion of what he called his "lines of circumvallation " 
around the city of New Orleans. This object he pursued for 
many years with all the persistence of an enthusiast. Begin- 
ning at the upper end of the city, he gradually made his way 



JOHN McDONOGH. 2 1 9 

through the swamps, purchasings large belts of land, until at 
last, a few years before his death, meeting one of his old friends, 
he clapped him on the shoulder, exclaiming in joyous tones, 
" Congratulate me, my friend ; I have achieved the greatest 
victory of my life. I have drawn my lines around the city, and 
now entirely embrace it in my arms — all for the glory of God 
and the good of my race ! " 

Some personal glimpses of this extraordinary man we obtain 
through the medium of an article in the " Continental Maga- 
zine." Its writer says : — 

" In the year 1850, and for nearly forty years previous, you 
might see almost every day in the streets of New Orleans a very 
peculiar-looking old gentleman. Tall and straight as a pillar, 
with stern, determined features, lit up by eyes of uncommon, 
almost unnatural brilliancy, with his hair combed back and 
gathered in a sort of queue, and dressed in the fashion of half 
a celitury ago — to wit, an old blue coat with high collar ; well 
brushed and patched, but somewhat seedy pantaloons of like 
date and texture, but somewhat more modern, but bearing un- 
mistakable proofs of long service and exposure to sun and rain ; 
old round-toed shoes, the top-leathers of which had survived 
more soles than the wearer had outlived souls of his early 
friends and companions ; a- scant white vest, ruffled shirt, and 
voluminous white cravat, completed the costume of this singu- 
lar gentleman, who, with his ancient blue silk umbrella under 
his arm, and his fierce eye fixed on some imaginary goal ahead, 
made his way through the struggling crowds which passed 
along the streets of New Orleans." 

His strange and spectral figure was last seen upon its accus- 
tomed rounds on the 26th of October, 1850. On that day 



220 B USINESS MEN. 

occurred a remarkable incident which arrested the attention of 
every passer-by, and was fixed upon by the reporters of the 
daily papers as a sign " portending change to nations," namely, 
the venerable merchant varied for once from the routine of 
nearly half a century. He was seen to stop, to hesitate for a 
few moments, and then deliberately enter an omnibus bound 
for the lower part of the city. Is it to be wondered at that an 
occurrence so unusual produced a sensation in society ! It 
was clear that only some novel emergency could have brought 
about this violation of long-established custom. The omnibus 
stopped at the courthouse ; Mr. McDonogh and his blue 
umbrella emerged from the interior ; and both disappeared 
quickly in the corridor leading to the "halls of justice." 

This was the last time McDonogh was seen in the streets of 
New Orleans. On the following morning he " departed this 
life." 

The " mixed " character of the man may be inferred from 
the opinions he expressed in an interview with a New Orleans 
lawyer, which has been recorded for the benefit of posterity. 
The man of law said to the man of business : — "You are a 
very rich man, and I know that you intend to leave all your 
property to be expended on charitable objects. I have been 
thinking over your singular life, and I want you to give some 
explanation of the great success which has attended you ; for 
I too would like to become very rich, and leave a fortune to 
my sons." 

" Well," said he, " get up, sir." The lawyer rose from his 
arm-chair, which McDonogh proceeded to occupy, and turning 
to the lawyer as if he had been his clerk, pointed to a common 
chair in which he had been sitting, and said, " Sit down, sir, 



THREE RULES FOR SUCCESS. 221 

and I will tell you now I became a rich man, and how, by fol- 
lowing these rules, you can become as rich as myself." 

" I first came to Louisiana," he continued, " when it was a 
Spanish colony, as the agent for a- house in Baltimore and a 
house in Boston, to dispose of certain cargoes of goods. 
After I had settled up their accounts and finished their agency, 
I set up to do business for myself. I had become acquainted 
with the Spanish governor, who had taken a fancy to me, 
although I had never so much as nattered him, and through 
his influence I obtained a contract for the army, by which I 
cleared $10,000. After this I gave a splendid dinner to the 
principal officers of the army and the governor, and by this 
means obtained another contract with a profit of $30,000. 

" This is what the French and the Creoles do not under- 
stand — I mean the spending of money judiciously. They are 
afraid of spending money. A man who wishes to gain a for- 
tune must first make a show of liberality, and spend money in 
order to acquire it. By the dinner which I gave to the Span- 
ish authorities I obtained their good-will and esteem, and thus 
was enabled to make a large sum of money. To succeed in 
life, then, you must obtain the favor and influence of the opu- 
lent, and of the authorities of the country in which you live. 
This is the first rule. 

" The natural span of a man's life," continued McDonogh, 
" is too short, if he is abandoned to his own resources, for him 
to accumulate great wealth, and therefore you must exercise 
your power and influence over those who, in point of riches, 
are inferior to yourself, and turn to your advantage, by making 
use of them, their talents, knowledge, and information. This 
is the second rule." 



222 BUSINESS MEN. 

Here he paused for awhile, as if absorbed in thought, and 
seeing him remain silent, the lawyer asked, " Is that all ? " 
" No," he replied, " there is a third rule, and a last, which it is 
all-essential for you to observe, in order that success may 
attend your exertions." 

" And what is that ? " 

" Why, sir," he exclaimed, "it is prayer. You must pray to 
the Almighty with fervor and zeal, and He will sustain you in 
all your desires. I never prayed sincerely to God in all my 
life without obtaining a satisfactory answer to my prayer." 

He stopped, and the lawyer inquired, " Is that all ? " 

He answered, " Yes, sir ; follow my advice and you will 
become a rich man." 

Afterwards commenting on this curious conversation, the 
lawyer said, " I did not follow this advice, for certain reasons. 
And yet, I do not wish to be considered harsh if I draw neces- 
sary conclusions from it — namely, that when a man desires to 
become rich, he must corrupt the high, oppress the poor, and 
look to God — to support him." 

The commentary is hardly too severe for the text. It is dif- 
ficult to conceive of a more rotten system of business morality 
than that which is outlined in McDonogh's three maxims. It 
is impossible to conceive of one more surely destined to fail in 
its practical application, at least in Great Britain. For example, 
our most influential mercantile houses have owed nothing to 
the favor of the opulent and the powerful. Their prosperity 
has been built up by courage, patience, vigor, and ability. As 
to the second maxim, it could never be accepted or acted upon 
by any man of common honesty. And then, as to the third, it 
could be adopted only by those who reject the first and second, 



CHARACTER OF THE SUCCESSFUL. 223 

if its full import be understood. It is the prayer of the right- 
eous man that availeth much, not the prayer of him who stoops 
to those above him and crushes those below him for purposes 
of gain — the prayer offered up in a spirit of humility, childlike 
innocence, simplicity, trustfulness and fervor. The prayer 
offered up in such a spirit will hardly dwell upon material 
benefits. It will ask for support and guidance, for strength to 
resist temptation, and submissiveness to God's will ; but not 
that a profit may be made upon the last speculation, or success 
attend the floating of the next bubble company. A religious 
man will make the best man of business ; but a religious man 
will never presume to take heaven, as it were, into partnership 
in his transaction. 

" If we were to consult the annals of commercial life," says a 
good authority, " we should find that, in most instances, the 
men who have been distinguished for success in business are of 
the same stamp as those who have been eminent in the walks of 
literature and science. They have been characterised by self- 
denying habits, by simple tastes, and by unpretending man- 
ners ; while the bold, the vain, the presumptuous, and the reck- 
less, have done immense mischief to themselves and others in 
the department of trade, dissevering the bonds of confidence 
and good feeling, and often creating havoc and ruin around 
them. The same principles and motives of action prevail in 
the good, the wise, and the prudent among all sorts of men. It 
is that wisdom which is unpretending and boasteth not, and 
that quiet sort of penetration and sagacity which is little de- 
ceived by self flatteries and delusions, which are often more in- 
jurious and ruinous than all the worldly artifices and deceptions 
which are practised upon us." 



224 BUSINESS MEN. 

The plain, practical, almost commonplace truth of these re- 
marks is impressed upon us by every chapter in industrial 
biography and the history of commerce to which we direct our 
attention. The qualities which made Lord Lytton and Fara- 
day famous, or Ruskin and Turner, or Morse and Wheatstone, 
are the qualities which raised to honorable positions such men 
as Arkwright and Stephenson, or Brassey and George Moore. 
We are not, of course, referring to intellectual, but to moral 
power ; and we say that in each case the moral power was the 
same. 

Take the well-known, nay, the hackneyed, instance of Josiah 
Wedgwood. His father was only a potter, as his father had 
been before him, and he died when Josiah was a mere boy, the 
youngest of a family of thirteen children. He began his indus- 
trial career as a thrower in a small potwork conducted by his 
elder brother ; and at the potter's-wheel he might have toiled 
all his life but for an attack of virulent smallpox. Owing to 
gross neglect, this resulted in a disease in his right leg, which 
in a great degree unfitted him for his humble calling. When 
he returned to his work, the pain in his limb was so severe, that 
he was forced to rest it almost constantly upon a stool before 
him. As he grew older, the disease increased, and it was much 
intensified by a bruise or wound, which confined him to his bed 
for months, and reduced him to extreme debility. Eventually 
it was found necessary to resort to amputation. During the 
enforced leisure of his frequent illnesses, Wedgwood took to 
reading and thinking, and meditated much on the various ways 
of making a living by his trade, now that he could no longer 
labor at the potter's-wheel. He began by moulding potter's 
clay into various ornamental articles, endeavoring at the same 



BLAISE PASCAL. 225 

time to acquire such a knowledge of practical chemistry as 
might enable him to improve the quality of his work in its col- 
oring, glaze, and durability. Pursuing his object with the most 
untiring tenaciousness of purpose and the most rigorous self- 
denial, he advanced from stage to stage, until at last, as the con- 
summation of thirty years' perseverance, he established on a 
firm basis a new branch of industry, and infused into it an 
artistic spirit. In all this he displayed the same qualities by 
which Newton mastered the theory of gravitation, by which Sir 
William Jones became the greatest Oriental scholar of his time. 
Let us turn for a moment to the early career of Blaise Pascal. 
He was born at Clermont, in Auvergne, on the 19th of July, 
1623. Almost from his cradle, says his sister, or as soon as he 
could speak, he gave evidence that he was endowed by nature 
with remarkable faculties, the questions he asked and the an- 
swers he gave being beyond his years ; and his father, animated 
by the prospect of the splendid career which such a son might 
be destined to achieve, resolved to devote himself entirely to 
his education. For this purpose he established himself in Paris 
when Blaise was in his eighth year, and watched over his moral 
and intellectual training with extraordinary care. He guarded 
against his being pretmaturely forced, and made it a point that 
his lessons should never be of a nature to compel undue exer- 
tion. He did not allow him to begin Latin until he was twelve 
years old, but gradually instilled into his mind the principles of 
language, so that Blaise Pascal was well versed in the theory of 
grammar before he began to study any foreign tongue. The 
bias of his inclinations was early perceptible. Having remarked 
that glass when struck gives forth a vibrating sound, but that 
when the hand touches the glass the sound ceases, he endeav- 



226 BUSINESS MEN 

ored to ascertain the reason, made numerous minute experi- 
ments, and embodied the results of his inquiries in a little 
treatise. The scientific researches of his father he also observ- 
ed with keen delight, and it was remarked that he could not be 
satisfied until he knew the cause of every effect. 

However, in accordance with the custom of the age, Blaise 
Pascal's father, disregarding this evident predisposition towards 
science, insisted on his applying himself to the study of Greek 
and Latin. The classics first, he said, and mathematics after- 
wards ; an arrangement which greatly puzzled the boy, and led 
him to yearn after mathematics, as we all yearn after that which 
is forbidden. One day he put a question to his father respect- 
ing geometry. " Geometry," was the reply, " is that science 
which teaches the method of making exact figures, and of find- 
ing out the proportions they bear to each other." And to this 
definition he added a warning that Blaise was to think only of 
Homer and Virgil, and not to trouble himself about " exact 
figures." But Pascal could not stifle the aspirations of his 
genius ; and in his leisure hours retired to an upper room, 
where, with a piece of charcoal, he endeavored to describe tri- 
angles and circles, and to determine their relation to each other, 
He had been so rigorously debarred from scientific books, that 
he was ignorant of the proper names Of the figures he drew. 
The circle he called "a round," and the straight line "a bar." 
Thus the the boy's natural talent continued to assert itself, and 
he gradually arrived at a clear comprehension of those mathe- 
matical principles which most boys master only by the aid of 
books and professors, and after considerable vexation of spirit. 
One day, while he was thus engaged, his father entered his room, 
and surprised him in the midst of his work. To his questions 



BLAISE PASCAL. 227 

Blaise replied that he was endeavoring to make out such and such 
a thing ; that is, unknown to himself, he was solving the 32nd 
problem in Euclid's first book. " And what made you think of 
that ? " inquired his father. " Because I had found out this ; " 
and he described what proved to be an earlier problem in Euclid. 
In this way, at his father's instigation, the boy went backward 
step by step, until he arrived at the axioms and definitions 
which form the foundation of geometrical science. The elder 
Pascal could no longer maintain a prohibition which was as evi- 
dently a war against nature as a dam across a river's current, 
and the boy was allowed to amuse himself with Euclid in his 
hours of recreation. 

Thenceforward his progress was marvellously rapid. It is 
asserted that, at sixteen, he produced a treatise upon the Conic 
Sections which elicited the warm eulogium of no less eminent 
a philosopher than Descartes. At nineteen, he invented the 
arithemetical machine, at three-and-twenty he had won a world- 
wide reputation by his achievements in physical science. In 
determining the problem of the ascent of fluids in tubes by suc- 
tion, or in ascertaining the weight of the atmosphere, his part 
was hardly that of a discoverer; but to him belongs the merit of 
correctly applying the data furnished by the ingenuity of Torri- 
celli. With these abstruse topics, or with the extent of Pascal's 
achievements as a mathematician, it is not here our business to 
concern ourselves. Enough for us to show that they proceeded 
from the assiduity and intelligence of a mind engaged sponta- 
neously on a subject to which it was naturally disposed. 

We must glance for a moment at the religious aspect of Pas- 
cal's life and character. In his eighteenth year his constitution 
gave way beneath the pressure of his unremitting application, 



228 BUSTNESS MEN. 

and to the day of his death he suffered from a complication of 
diseases, which were seriously aggravated by the rigorous asceti- 
cism he had adopted. Hence it came to pass that his physical 
sufferings, by suggesting to his resolute intellect a doctrine of 
voluntary martyrdom, exercised a reactionary influence on his 
spiritual consciousness. His rule of life increased in severity 
as that bodily pain increased in which it had originated. He 
was finally determined towards a life of religious devotion by a 
couple of accidental incidents. One day, when he was on a 
visit to his sister Jacqueline, the sermon bell began to ring. 
His sister repaired to church, and he himself was induced to 
steal into it by another door. The preacher's discourse on 
this occasion related to the difficulties experienced on the 
threshold of the Christian life. It pointed out how persons 
of good intentions involve themselves in worldly cares, and 
thereby impede their progress towards eternal truth and miss 
the prize of their heavenly calling. Pascal applied to his own 
case the preacher's words, and understood them to embody a 
direct providential warning. A second and more emphatic 
warning was conveyed by his narrow escape from a terrible 
death. In a carriage drawn by four horses he was journeying 
to Neuilly, accompanied by several friends. It was a fete day, 
and a promenade was to take place upon the celebrated bridge, 
which was of great height, and at one place undefended by a 
parapet. Frightened by the crowd, the two leaders turned 
restive, broke from the control of the postilions, and, in their 
wild agitation, plunged over the unprotected bridge, and fell 
into the Seine. Happily, the traces snapped, and the carriage 
remained standing on the very edge. The frail constitution of 
Pascal was severely shaken by this adventure. He immedi- 



BLAISE PASCAL. 229 

ately fell into a swoon, and it was some time before he regained 
consciousness, while the impression made upon his mind was 
deep and enduring. He was frequently tortured by an idea of 
peril menacing him on the left side, and of an awful chasm 
yawning in that direction. It was on the left side of the bridge 
that the accident occurred. To this haunting apprehension 
Pascal seems to allude in the following passage : — " The great- 
est philosopher in the world, on a plank wider than the path- 
way which he chooses for his ordinary walk, will, should there 
be a precipice beneath, be entirely overcome by his imagination, 
even though his reason convince him of his security. Many 
could not endure even the thought of crossing such a plank 
without a wan face and a perturbed spirit." 

From that date, October, 1654, Pascal almost entirely aban- 
doned his secular studies. He strove, not unsuccessfully, to 
forget the charms of abstract and physical science ; and de- 
voted all his power of intellect, all his energy of character, 
and all his resoluteness of purpose, to the defence of Chris- 
tianity and the service of God. Dean Church remarks that 
Pascal had felt, as keenly perhaps as man ever felt them, the 
triumphs of pure intellect in its clearness, its versatility, and its 
strength. " He felt the immeasurable distance of mind and 
genius above all the greatness of outward and material things, 
above the pomp and glories of riches and power, above all 
physical perfection. Archimedes, he says, needed nothing of 
the grandeur of i kings and captains and great men according 
to the flesh ; ' he won no victories, he won no crown, but he 
was great in his own great order of intellect : the mathema- 
tician's enthusiasm kindles at his name — ' O how glorious was 
he to the intellectual eye ! ' — ' O quil a eclate aux esprits ! ' " 



23O BUSINESS MEN. 

But Pascal discovered that there was an order of greatness 
higher even than the intellectual. " The interval," he writes, 
" which is infinite, between body and mind, represents the 
infinitely more infinite distance between intellect and charity." 
To quote Dean Church again — " The strong and nimble mind 
which played with difficulties, and to whose force all resistance 
yielded, the soaring imagination, the ambition of the explorer 
on the traces of unthought-of knowledge, all that made and 
marked the matchless intellect of his time, the great generator, 
the great physicist, the great mechanist, master, too, of the 
keenest satire, and the most unapproachable felicity of lan- 
guage — he and all that he was bowed down before the unearthly 
greatness of charity, and confessed the sovereign and para- 
mount excellence of moral perfection, the supreme claims of the 
moral law of goodness." The man, however, had not changed — 
only his object. The enthusiasm which he had formerly given 
to science he now consecrated to the service of spiritual truth. 

Turning from these biographical sketches, and the lessons 
they have been intended to enforce, with the conviction, that, if 
the reader do not profit by them, the fault will be in his failing 
to apply them, we proceed to collect a few notes and anecdotes 
in illustration of the various aspects of business. 

That it has its romantic and attractive side will hardly be 
suspected ; and yet it is true. In the life of every great mer- 
chant episodes occur which are as full of exciting interest and 
entertainment as any recorded in fiction. We may cite in con- 
firmation of our remark the circumstances which attended the 
establishment of the once-celebrated financial house of the 
Barclays of London. 

In 1 76 1, George the Third, accompanied by his family, re- 



FRIEND BARCLA Y AND THE KING. 23 I 

paired to the house of David Barclay, a famous draper in 
Cheapside, to witness the civic glories of the Lord Mayor's 
show. In preparing for this visit the Quaker spared no ex- 
pense. The house was redecorated, new furniture was ordered, 
every apartment was splendidly fitted up, and the balcony, 
which commanded a good view of the procession, was hung 
with crimson silk and damask. Friend Barclay, however, would 
not allow his children to be attired otherwise than as become 
the grandsons and grand-daughters of Robert Barclay of Ury, 
the author of the " Apology ;" and accordingly the sons appeared 
in the plainest cloth, and the ladies in the plainest silks, with 
" dressed black bonnets." When all things were in order, Mr. 
and Mrs. Barclay, with their sons David and Jack, were ap- 
pointed to receive the Royal Family below stairs, and to wait 
on them to the apartment especially designed for their accom- 
modation. On the King's arrival they were introduced to him 
by the lords-in-waiting, and kindly received ; the Quaker and 
all his sons, by an unusual stretch of the royal condescension, 
being allowed to kiss the King's hand without kneeling. After 
this, the sovereign saluted Mrs. Barclay and the girls, and the 
same honor was conferred on them by the Queen and others of 
the royal visitors. On the King's departure, he thanked Mr. 
Barclay for his entertainment, and politely apologised for the 
trouble that had been inflicted upon him. " This great conde- 
scension (I am told) so affected the old gentleman, that he 
not only made a suitable return to the compliment, but (like 
the good patriarchs of old) prayed that God would please to 
bless him and all his family, which was received by the King 
with great goodness." The King's farewell words are reported 
to have been, " David, let me see thee at St. James's next Wed- 
nesday, and bring thy son Robert with thee," 



232 BUSINESS MEN 

Accordingly (so runs the story) plain David Barclay and his 
son Robert, then a young man of twenty, attended the court 
levee ; and on their approaching the royal presence, George the 
Third, with his usual indifference to conventionalities, descend- 
ed from the throne, and giving the Friend a cordial grasp of 
the hands, welcomed him to St. James's. Many were the kind 
words he said both to father and son. In the course of the 
conversation he asked the Quaker what he intended to do with 
Robert ; and, without pausing for a reply, continued — " Let 
him come here, and I will find for him a profitable and honora- 
ble employment." 

The cautious Quaker had no desire, however, to expose his 
son to seductive influences. With suitable apologies, and in a 
tone of great deference, he replied that he feared the air of the 
court would not agree with his son. The King was not used 
to so curt a rejection of the royal favor, but good-humoredly 
answered, " Well, David, well, well, you know best, you know 
best ; but you must not forget to let me see you occasionally at 
St. James's." 

Soon afterwards Robert was established as a banker in Lom- 
bard Street, and his rapid progress was purely owing to the 
constancy and solidity of the royal patronage. In 1781 he 
joined his friend Perkins in purchasing for .£135,000 the great 
' brewery of Thrale, the friend of Dr. Johnson, and thus was 
founded the well-known firm of Barclay and Perkins. Henry 
Thrale's father had originally been a clerk in the counting- 
house of a Southwark brewery, but through his admirable char- 
acter and rare business qualities he had risen to be the head of 
the establishment. When the partners wished to retire, they 
sold to him the business and premises for £"30,000, taking a 



THOMAS COUTTS, 233 

lien on the property as security for the repayment. This sum 
was discharged within a short period, and in the course of years 
the elder Thrale amassed an enormous fortune. The younger 
Thrale, with the assistance of Mr. Perkins, greatly extended the 
business ; and though at one time he jeopardised it by his un- 
successful speculations, at the time of his sudden death it was 
a property of immense value. By his will it was to have been 
carried on by Mrs. Thrale, conjointly with her executors, of 
whom Dr. Johnson was one ; but various considerations led to 
its being disposed of by auction. On the day of sale, the au- 
thor of " Rasselas " was present, with an ink-horn suspended to 
his button hole. To a purchaser, who, mistaking him for the 
auctioneer, had asked his opinion of the value of the "plant" 
and appliances of the brewery, he is said to have replied, " Sir, 
we are not here to sell a parcel of boilers and vats, but the 
potentiality of growing rich beyond the dreams of avarice." 
Mr. Barclay with his friend Perkins, made an offer for the con- 
cern as it stood, and Mrs. Thrale closed with it delightedly. 
" Heaven," she said, " sent this good Quaker to buy it of us." 
In the life of another rich London banker, Thomas Coutts, 
we meet with two or three incidents lying beyond the regions 
of commonplace. John Coutts, a merchant and bill-broker, 
and at one time Lord Provost of Edinburgh, had four sons, of 
whom the two youngest, James and Thomas, were brought up 
in their father's office. At the age of twenty-five James mi- 
grated to London, and settled in St. Mary Axe as a merchant ; 
subsequently starting as a Banker on the same spot, and, it is 
believed, in the same house, where the business of " Coutts' 
Bank " is still conducted. Some few years latter (1760), he took 
his brother Thomas into partnership, and soon afterwards gave 



234 B U SI NESS MEN. 

up to him the actual management of the establishment. He 
was seized with insanity in 1777, and died in the following 
year. 

There was no insanity in Thomas Coutts, but there was cer- 
tainly much of that eccentricity which goes so perilously near 
the partition line. Almost as soon as he assumed the reins of 
the great house in the Strand, he took to himself a wife, and that 
wife was a certain Elizabeth Starkey, one of his brother's ser- 
vants, in whom, with a handsome face and a good temper, were 
united many "rustic virtues," unfortunately not too common 
among domestic servants of the present day. That she had an 
aspiring disposition is tolerably evident. It is said that shortly 
before her marriage, on a wet and dirty day, she was engaged 
in her household duties, when one of the bank clerks ran into 
the house, and was about to proceed upstairs to change his 
clothes. Betsy, stopping him, insisted that he should remove 
his shoes in order not to sully the newly-washed stair. The 
young man, annoyed at what he considered an impertinence, 
coolly stamped and scraped on each step as he ascended, so as 
to do his best to soil them. " Before long," shouted Betsy, 
" I'll make you pull off your shoes and stockings too, whenever 
I choose it." After the marriage, the clerk expected instant 
dismissal : but Mrs. Coutts was too good-natured to remember 
his offence. She proved herself by no means unworthy of the 
station to which she had been raised. Though her manners 
were unrefined, her natural parts were considerable, and she 
quickly profited by the education which her husband wisely 
provided for her. In a few short years she became in demeanor, 
as in intelligence, as much a gentlewoman as many of those 
ladies " who had been bred and brought up in the lap of luxury 



THOMAS COUTTS. 235 

and splendor." She bore three daughters to Mr. Coutts, and 
trained them with so much skill and care, that they were in 
every way fit ornaments of the aristocratic circles into which 
they were in due time admitted as the wives of Sir Francis 
Burdett, the Earl of Guildford, and the Marquis of Bute re- 
spectively. 

Mr. Coutts was liberal-handed, and no tale of distress was 
ever told to him in vain. He was also exceedingly hospitable, 
and took great pleasure in literary and theatrical society. His 
fondness for the stage led to his making the acquaintance of 
the celebrated actress, Harriet Mellon. In light comic char- 
acters she was very popular, though Leigh Hunt speaks of her 
as having no genius. She had, however, a fine person, intelli- 
gent eyes, and a good-humored mouth, which did not belie her 
natural disposition. She made her first appearance on the 
stage as Lydia Languish in "The Rivals" in 1795, and her last 
as Audrey in "As You Like it " in 1815. In the latter year 
died Mrs. Coutts, who, since about 1787, had fallen into a state 
of imbecility, and had consequently been secluded from society. 
Within three months, the banker, who was then seventy-four 
years old, married Miss Mellon, his intimacy with her having 
been notorious for a considerable period. It is to be presumed 
that he found in her many qualities worthy of his respect and 
esteem ; for during his life he treated her with the fullest con- 
fidence, and at his death, which occurred in February 1822, at 
the age of ninety-one, he bequeathed to her the whole of his 
personal and landed property, besides a very large share in the 
immense yearly profits of the banking-house. Many of -our 
readers will remember that Mrs. Coutts in due time became 
Duchess of St. Albans : but she retained in her own hands the 



236 B U SI NESS MEN. 

disposition of her vast fortune, and when she died, left it, in 
accordance, as was supposed, with her former husband's wishes, 
to his favorite grand-daughter, Miss, now the Baroness Burdett- 
Coutts. 

Anything but commonplace were the circumstances which 
attended the early stages of the career of Jaques Lafitte, the 
celebrated French banker ; and, indeed, that career, as a whole, 
was a striking proof that the successful conduct of business de- 
mands many of the qualities which raise men to greatness in 
the senate, the council, or the field, such as unsleeping vigilance, 
untiring patience, the highest prudence, keenness of perception, 
coolness of judgment, and that presence of mind which depends 
upon a well-founded self-reliance and boundless fertility of 
resource. 

When the young Lafitte arrived in Paris in 1798, the object 
of his ambitious hopes was a stool in a banking-house ; and in 
order to secure it he called upon M. Paregeaux, a rich Swiss 
banker, with a letter of introduction. This gentleman had just 
removed to the hotel of Mademoiselle Garnvard, which had 
been put up in a lottery by that fair and frail lady, and won 
by the fortunate banker. It was to this very elegant habitation 
— long ago demolished — that Jacques Lafitte paid his first visit 
in Paris, and planted his foot on the threshold of the dazzling 
Parisian world. The young provincial, " poor and modest, 
timid and anxious," entered by that gateway which, in the last 
century, had witnessed many a scene of dissipation and profuse 
splendor. 

He was introduced into the boudoir of the danseuse, the 
banker having converted it into his private room, and proceed- 
ed to state with much modesty the reason of his visit. " It is 



IMPORTANCE OF A PIN. 237 

impossible," replied the banker, " for me to take you into my 
establishment, at least for the present ; every department has 
its full complement. Should I require help at a future time I 
will see what I can do for you, but in the meantime I would 
have you seek elsewhere, as it may be long before a vacancy 
occurs." 

With a disappointed heart *the young man left the hotel. As 
in dejected mood he slowly traversed the stately court-yard, he 
stooped to pick up a pin which glittered in his path, and care- 
fully fastened it in the lappel of his coat. Little did he imagine 
that an action apparently so trivial was to decide his future 
fortune, and open up to him a stirring career ; but it so chanced 
that M. Paregeaux had, from the windows of his cabinet, idly 
followed the young man's movements. A quick observer and 
a keen interpreter of human character from human actions, he 
detected in the slightest circumstance, which others would pass 
unnoticed, an infallible indication of motive or disposition. 
The conduct of the young provincial delighted him. It re- 
vealed to him the forethought and carefulness of the true man 
of business. He accepted it as a guarantee of order and 
economy, as a testimony to the possession of the qualities most 
valuable in a good financier. He felt convinced that a young 
man who, in a moment of disappointment, could stop to pick 
up a pin, would assuredly make a painstaking and scrupulous 
clerk, deserve his employer's confidence, and eventually attain 
to a prosperous position. In the evening of the same day Jac- 
ques Lafitte received the following note from the banker : — "A 
place is made for you in my establishment, of which you may 
take possession to-morrow morning." 

It is almost needless to add that M. Paregeaux's anticipations 



238 BUSINESS MEN. 

were fulfilled to the letter. The young Lafitte made an excel- 
lent clerk, and, to orderly and economical habits, was soon dis- 
covered to add an enthusiastic love of work and a strong and 
steady brain. He rose to be cashier, then partner, and then 
head of the greatest banking-house of Paris. Engaging in 
political strife, he was returned to the French Legislature as a 
deputy, and acquired so much influence in Parliament and the 
country, that he was eventually appointed President of the 
Council of Ministers. In 1836 he founded the joint-stock bank 
which bears his name, and closed a long and busy life in May, 
1844. He left one daughter, who married the Prince of Mos- 
kowa, the son of Napoleon's favorite lieutenant, Marshal Ney, 
le plus brave des braves. 

Going back to the Middle Ages, we find romance and com- 
merce blended in the history of the merchant prince of Bruges, 
Jacques Cceur. Born about the end of the fourteenth century, 
in the ranks of the people, he made choice at an early age of 
a mercantile career, and by his wonderful intellectual vigour, 
enterprise, and foresight, soon acquired an immense fortune. 
But he was something more than a successful merchant, he was 
a national benefactor. He found the commerce of France 
behind that of every other country, but by his exertions and 
example raised it to a condition of the highest prosperity. 
To him is due the credit of the idea of direct and speedy 
communication with the East ; an idea, however, not fully 
realized until our own time. Nevertheless, his dealings with 
Oriental countries were on a large scale. In the Mediterranean 
he acquired more commercial power than all the rest of the 
European merchants put together. His vessels were every- 
where respected as though he had been a sovereign prince. 



THE MERCHANT OF BRUGES. 239 

They carried his flag on every sea and into every port ; and 
from furthest Asia they brought back cloths of gold and 
sheeny silk, furs, arms, spices, and ingots of gold and silver, 
still augmenting his mighty stores, until all Europe rang with 
the fame of his unparalleled opulence. At one time three 
hundred factors were in his employ. " As rich as Jacques 
Cceur " became a proverb. There were not wanting those who 
believed that he had discovered the philosopher's stone, and 
popular tradition, exaggerating the amount of precious metals 
in his coffers, asserted that his horses were shod with silver. 

It has been justly said that he proved himself worthy of his 
success by the liberality with which he gave to noble objects. 
For Charles VII., who had made him his Master of the Mint, 
he raised three armies at his own cost ; and, in his office as 
Argentier, he recruited and reorganized the finances of the 
kingdom. The French were enabled to turn to such excellent 
account the heroic enthusiasm of Jeanne Dare through the 
resources he placed at their disposal ; he became in the fullest 
sense of the word, the national banker. By his frank and cor- 
dial sympathy and his firm sagacious counsel he sustained 
" the tender and brave soul of Agnes Sorel, the noblest of 
royal mistresses, in her efforts to save the king." On her death- 
bed she chose him for her executor. 

Strong as he was and firm of heart, Jacques Cceur was not 
exempt from human weakness, which showed itself in his love 
of personal magnificence. The splendor of his household and 
the brilliant ostentation he affected raised against him many 
enemies among the haughty nobles of France, who saw with 
indignation the presumption of " the Merchant of Bruges " in 
outshining and surpassing them in the number and equipments 



24O BUSINESS MEN 

of his retinue, the bravery of his attire, and the costliness of 
his banquets. When Charles made his triumphant entry into 
Rouen after the expulsion of the English, the merchant Jacques 
Cceur rode by the side of Dunois the peerless, clothed in 
armour precisely similar to his. We need not be surprised at 
the result. In 1450 a conspiracy was formed against him by 
Antoine de Chabannes and others, at whose suggestion he was 
arrested on the absurd charge of having poisoned Agnes Sorel, 
was cast into prison and subjected to the foulest treatment. 
The King, with truly royal ingratitude, abandoned his loyal 
and patriotic servant to the malice of his enemies, and took no 
steps to punish their disregard of law and justice. In 1453 a 
packed tribunal pronounced him guilty, and he was condemned 
to pay a fine of four millions of crowns, to be imprisoned until 
the fine was paid, and then expelled the kingdom. The 
remainder of his property was seized by his judges and shared 
as plunder. Two years later, through the faithfulness and 
dexterity of one of his agents, Jacques was conveyed to Rome, 
where he was warmly welcomed by Pope Nicholas V. Having 
abated nothing of his old heroic spirit and enthusiastic daring, 
he obtained in 1456 the appointment of captain-general of the 
forces of the Church against the infidels, proceeded with a 
fleet to the relief of the Greek isles, then menaced by the 
Turks ; but at Chio he was seized with an illness which speedily 
proved fatal. 

Not less adventurous, though he lived in a tamer age, when 
the exploits of a Jacques Cceur had become impossible, was the 
philanthropic merchant, Jonas Hanway. In every record of 
"Men of Daring," or "Men who have Risen," he ought as- 
suredly to occupy a foremost place. The son of a Portsmouth 



"NEVER DESPAIR." 24 1 

storekeeper, and born in 17 12, he was left an orphan at an early- 
age. His mother, with her little family, removed to London, 
and did her best to give them a decent education. At seven- 
teen Jonas obtained an apprenticeship in the establishment of 
a Lisbon merchant, to whose favorable notice his assiduous 
discharge of his duties and his strict sense of honor quickly 
recommended him. Afterwards we find him a partner in a 
mercantile house at St. Petersburg, which had embarked in the 
Caspian trade. In order to develop its business, he visited 
Russia, and after a brief sojourn at St. Petersburg, joined a 
caravan which was setting out for Persia with a considerable 
load of English cloth. From Astracan he crossed the Caspian 
to Astrabad, but an insurrection breaking out, his bales were 
seized, and though he eventually recovered the greater portion 
of them, his enterprise was, on the whole, a failure. Informa- 
tion was secretly conveyed to him of a design to seize himself 
and his property, whereupon he embarked on the Caspian, and, 
after a dangerous voyage, reached Ghilan in safety. In later 
life he commemorated his escape by a curious device which was 
emblazoned on his carriage. It represented a man in Persian 
dress, just landed in a storm on a rugged coast, and supporting 
himself on his sword in an attitude of calm resignation. In the 
background might be seen a boat tossed about by angry waves, 
and in the foreground an armorial shield bearing the sanguine 
motto, " Never despair." 

For five years longer Hanway remained at St. Petersburg, 
carrying on a lucrative business. In 1750, having acquired a 
competency, and a relative having left him an estate, he re- 
turned to England, for the purpose, as he himself expressed it, 
of consulting his own health, which was extremely delicate, and 



242' BUSINESS MEN. 

doing as much good to himself and others as he was able. To 
the last he retained an honest pride in the profession to which 
he had belonged, and was fond of expatiating on the usefulness 
of the merchant , " a character for which he entertained great 
reverence." While by no means insensible to the pleasures of 
society, he devoted the greater part of his income for the re- 
mainder of his life to works of benevolence. His inexhaustible 
energy was brought to bear on every public improvement, and 
while he found time to attend to the repair and cleaning of the 
streets of London, he assisted largely in the foundation of the 
Marine Society for training and fitting out volunteers and boys 
to serve in the mercantile and the royal navy. The Foundling 
Hospital, established by Captain Coram, owed much of its pros- 
perity to his active and prudent management. His labors on 
behalf of the children of the poor should never be forgotten. 
In this field he was almost the first worker, and his exertions 
were as unremitting as they were wisely directed. Such was 
the sense entertained by the public of his long and valuable 
labors in the cause of charity, that a deputation from the prin- 
cipal merchants of London waited on the Earl of Bute while 
Prime Minister, and requested him to bestow upon Mr. Hanway 
some signal mark of the general esteem ; and accordingly he 
was appointed to a Commissionership of the Navy, which he 
held for twenty years. He died in London in 1786, bequeath- 
ing to the mercantile world the legacy of a noble example, and 
the record of a life which had abundantly shown that business 
does not necessarily deaden the gentler sympathies. 

That benevolence is no unusual feature of the character of 
the man of business might be shown by a thousand examples. 
We take one from an American source, because to most of our 
readers it will have an air of novelty. 



THE YOUNG PIANIST. 243 

Many years ago, a boy, who was passionately devoted to 
music, dreamed of it, and lived for it, found his way into a 
certain large establishment in Boston, where his favorite instru- 
ments were manufactured. Entering the extensive saloons in 
which numbers of these instruments were exhibited for sale, 
he sought out a quiet corner, and seating himself at a magnifi- 
cent piano, first looked round to be sure that he was neither 
seen nor heard, and then began to play some of Beethoven's 
beautiful waltzes which were within the range of his capacity, 
and at the same time responded to his feelings. Absorbed in 
a dream of melody, he did not for some time observe that a 
person had approached him, and was listening while he played. 
At last a benevolent face bent over him, and a kind voice 
uttered words of praise und encouragement, which, being the 
first he had ever received, sent the warm blood to his cheeks. 
The proprietor of the establishment (for it was he) then asked 
the boy if he would like to come and live among the pianos, 
and exhibit their qualities to intending purchasers ; offering 
him, in fact, an engagement as a pianist. But the boy had to 
remember his books and his school, and with many thanks de- 
clined the proposition. 

Years passed away. The boy left school, and threw aside 
his books. He still retained his deep love of music, and it 
chanced one day that he found himself again in the pianoforte 
manufacturer's spacious showrooms. He had just ceased play- 
ing upon one of the finest instruments, and was looking dreamily 
out of an adjacent window, and into the dim vistas of the 
future. Again a person quietly approached him, and in a 
pleasant and musical voice began to speak. The person be- 
fore him was of small stature, wore the dress and had the 



244 BUSINESS MEN. 

manners of a gentleman, though the contrast was strange be- 
tween his well-worn black clothes and splendid diamond pin, 
and the clean white apron of a workman, which he also wore. 
We need hardly say that it was the proprietor of the establish- 
ment again, who, wealthy as he was, had his own little working 
cabinet, with an exquisite set of tools, and there gave "the 
finishing touch" — a task he specially reserved for himself — to 
each of his beloved instruments. Of the young man, whom 
he had recognized, he inquired, in the course of conversation, 
what were his plans for life. He found that, as yet, they were 
vague and undetermined. The young man confessed that his 
passion for music had not abated, but that his friends seemed 
to wish and expect him to enter one of the learned professions. 
He, however, had sometimes thought that if he could have 
gone to Italy or France to study, he would have devoted him- 
self to music. His father had given him his education and his 
blessing, and could give no more. He must therefore fight the 
battle of life unaided, and of music must hardly allow himself 
to think. 

In his quietest tones, the proprietor, as though making an 
ordinary remark, rejoined, "Well, but if the sum of five hun- 
dred dollars a year for a period of four years would enable 
you to fulfil your wishes, I could easily be your banker to that 
extent." 

The young man almost staggered with surprise, and for a 
moment the world seemed to grow dim before him. When he 
recovered himself, there was the same quiet gentleman stand- 
ing beside him, and looking pleasantly out of the window. 

Two months afterwards the young man sailed for Europe, 
where he spent the allotted time, and a still longer period, his 



MERITS OF BUSINESS. 245 

successful compositions providing him with the means. And 
whatever of artistic knowledge and scientific culture, and what- 
ever of success in life and in his work afterwards appertained 
to the most eminent of the musical composers in America, 
must be ascribed, and always was by himself ascribed, to the 
generous pianoforte manufacturer of Boston, Mr. Chickering. 

Does the reader understand the purport of the present chap- 
ter ? If so, he will see that it has its right and proper place in 
this volume. We have been engaged in the preceding chapters 
in commenting on the virtues by which success in life is to be 
achieved, and in dwelling upon and illustrating the value of 
business qualities and business habits. In the present, we 
have brought forward the leading details of the careers of some 
famous men of business in order to show that they displayed 
these qualities and profited by these habits. A curious preju- 
dice prevails among the middle class against business as some- 
thing vulgar, degrading, and sordid. We have sought, on the 
contrary, to show that the principal merits of a man of busi- 
ness are precisely those which lead men to reputation in art, 
literature, or science, in law or divinity, in the senate or the 
field. And we have pointed out that the pursuit of business, 
or, as it is familiarly called, money-getting, is by no means in- 
compatible with the cultivation of the domestic affections, of 
generous and gentle sympathies. Lastly, we have aimed at 
enforcing upon the mind of the reader the truth that business 
has its romantic and interesting side, and that the man who 
gives himself up to it as to his life-work will have no cause to 
complain of a want of interesting and stimulating elements. 
And the moral of it all is this, that the work we have to do is 
the best work, and the work that ought to be done ; and that 



246 BUSINESS MEN. 

the honor and the reward will lie in doing it with all our heart, 
and all our soul, and all our mind, — not complaining of it as 
beneath our powers, — not repining because it is other than we 
wished it to be, — not reproaching ourselves because of our call- 
ing, but if it do not dignify us, taking care that we dignify it. 
For, as the late George Dawson says, " God has put men and 
women where He knew it was best for them to be. He has 
planted them among work and work-a-day people. He has so 
planted them that in work they may find worship ; in truth, 
perfection ; in trial, comfort ; in weakness, strength ; in life, 
heaven ; and in death, life. This is the sum of the Gospels, 
the lesson of toil." 

The young man destined to a commercial life may console 
himself, if he be so pitiful a creature as to need consolation 
in such a case, with the eulogium upon trade pronounced 
by an Englishman of letters. " If we consider our own 
country in its natural prospect," writes Addison, "without any 
of the benefits and advantages of commerce, what an uncom- 
fortable spot of earth falls to our share Natural historians 
tell us that no fruit grows originally among us besides hips and 
haws, acorns and pig-nuts, with other delicacies of the like 
nature ; that our climate of itself, and without the assistance of 
art, can make no further advances towards a plum than a star, 
and carries an apple to no greater perfection than a crab ; that 
our melons, our peaches, our figs, our apricots and cherries, 
are strangers among us, imported in different ages, and natur- 
alized in our English gardens ; and that they would all degen- 
erate and fall away into the taste of our own country, if they 
were wholly neglected by the planter and left to the mercy of 
our sun and soil. Nor has traffic more enriched our vegetable 



ENGLAND'S TRADE. 247 

world than it has improved the whole face of nature among us. 
Our ships we laden with the harvest of every climate ; our 
tables are stored with spices and oils and wine ; our rooms are 
nlled*with pyramids of china, and colored with workmanship 
of Japan ; our morning's draught comes to us from the remot- 
est corners of the earth ; we repair our bodies by the drugs of 
America, and repose ourselves under Indian canopies. The 
vineyards of France are our gardens, the Spice Islands our 
hotbeds, the Persians are our weavers, and the Chinese our 
potters. [This was written, we may remind the reader, in 
17 1 1, before the days of Arkwright and Wedgwood.] Nature 
indeed furnishes us with the bare necessaries of life, but traffic 
gives us a great variety of what is useful, and at the same time 
supplies us with everything that is convenient and ornamental. 
For these reasons there are not more useful members in a 
commonwealth than merchants. They knit mankind together 
in a mutual intercourse of good offices, distribute the gifts of 
nature, find work for the poor, add wealth to the rich, and 
magnificence to the great. Our English merchant converts the 
tin of his own country into gold, and exchanges his work for 
riches. The Mahometans are clothed in our British manufac- 
ture, and the inhabitants of the frozen zone are warmed with 
the fleeces of our sheep. When I have been upon ' Change, I 
have often fancied one of our old kings standing in person 
where he is represented in effigy, and looking down upon the 
wealthy concourse of people with which that place is every day 
filled. In this case, how would he be surprised to hear all the 
languages of Europe spoken in this little spot of his former 
dominions, and to see so many private men who, in his time, 
would have been the vassals of some powerful baron, negotiat- 



248 BUSINESS MEN. 

ing like princes for greater sums of money than were formerly 
to be met with in the royal treasury ! Trade, without enlarging 
the British territories,* has given us a kind of additional em- 
pire, it has multiplied the number of the rich, made our landed 
estates infinitely more valuable than they were formerly, and 
added to them an accession of other estates as valuable as the 
lands themselves." 

Mr. Fox Bourne has written a careful book upon our " En- 
glish Merchants," and a glance at its contents teaches us very 
vividly how honorable business may be made by a man of 
honor, and what scope it presents for energy and enterprise to 
a man of daring. When we read of such worthies as Sir 
Thomas Gresham' Sir Josiah Child, Sir Hugh Mydleton, Sir 
Dudley North ; of such men as Humphrey Cheetham, of Man- 
chester, Edward Colston, of Bristol, and Matthew Boulton, of 
Birmingham ; of such men as the Barings, the Gladstones, 
William Brown, James Ewing, the Barclays, the Gurneys, Fair- 
bairn, Brassey, and George Moore, we feel that the annals of 
trade are scarcely less plentifully studded with noble names 
than those of art or literature, the " services " or the profes- 
sions. If peace has its victories no less renowned than war, 
so have the pursuits of peace their heroes. He is said to be 
the truest patriot who can make two blades of corn grow where 
only one grew before. But he may also claim to be a patriot 
who helps to maintain that grand fabric of commercial enter- 
prise so indissolubly associated with the fame and fortune of 
England. 

* This is no longer true. England owes British India, and many of her 
most important dependencies, to her traders. 



CHAPTER VII. 

THE RACE AND THE A THLETE. 

11 So run that ye may obtain.,' — St. PauL 

" Does the road wind up hill all the way ? 
Yes ; to the very end. 
Will the day's journey take the whole long day? 
From morn to night, my friend." 

" Live a life of truest breath, 
And teach true life to fight with mortal wrongs. " 

— Tennyson, 

" We shall not perish yet. 
If God so guide our fate, 
The nobler portion of ourselves shall last 
Till all the lower rounds of life be past, 
And we, regenerate." 

— Songs of Two Worlds. 

" Every man has two educations — one which he receives from others, and 
one, more important, which he gives himself." — Gibbon. 

" A man so trained in youth that his body is the ready servant of his will, 
and does with ease and pleasure all the work that as a mechanism it is 
capable of — whose intellect is a clear, cold logic-engine, with all its parts of 
equal strength and in smooth working-order, ready like a steam-engine to 
be turned to any kind of work, and spin the gossamers as well as forge the 
anchors of the mind."- -Professor Huxley. 

" The body has its rights, and it will have them. They cannot be 
trampled upon or slighted without peril. The body ought to be the soul's 
best friend, and cordial, dutiful helpmate." — Guesses of Truth, 



CHAPTER VII. 

THE RACE AND THE ATHLETE. 

IF we would run the race of life so as to " obtain " the prize, 
we must submit to a course of strenuous self-preparation. 
The athlete before he enters on his struggle undergoes a rigorous 
training. The soldier is useless for the purposes of war until 
he has learned to submit himself to discipline. Who are we 
that we should take up our life-work before we have made any 
efforts to fit ourselves for it ? We all of us need preparation, 
and preparation which may be said to assume three aspects — 
the physical, the intellectual, the spiritual. On each of these it 
may be useful to say a few plain words : 

i. Physical. — The relations between the body and the soul 
are such that the condition of the former closely affects the 
well-being of the latter. It is a matter of Christian duty to 
attend to the physical health because the spiritual depends so 
largely upon it. The mind is often strong enough to conquer 
the body, and to assert its supremacy over the influences of 
disease ; but, as a rule, an enfeebled or diseased physical frame 
means an enfeebled or diseased intellect, a weakened judgment, 
a disordered imagination. It may be that the mind prevails 
against the body, with-all its maladies, for months or years, but 



252 THE RACE AND THE ATHLETE. 

suddenly there comes a time when the flesh conquers, and the 
spirit gives way unexpectedly. Some of Napoleon's later de- 
feats have been with justice attributed to the baneful effects of 
an aggravated dyspepsia. Many an outburst of irritability and 
ill-temper is explained by a disordered stomach. Time was 
when it was thought an admirable thing to treat the body as a 
worthless and despised slave ; when the student was exhorted to 
burn the midnight oil to the imminent ruin of his constitution ; 
when, in truth, the pallid countenance, the bowed shoulders, 
and the shrunken limbs, were regarded as the outward and 
visible signs of genius. It seemed to be almost a belief that no 
man could be a poet whose cheek did not flush with the hectic 
of consumption, or a scholar whose brow was not haggard with 
unhealthy vigils. The expression " rude health " has a sig- 
nificance in this direction which must not be overlooked. The 
popular opinion was that muscles and mind were absolutely 
antagonistic, and that a good cricketer must necessarily be a 
bad Ciceronian. The reversion to a more sensible view is 
owing in no small degree to the wise preaching of Kingsley and 
other prophets of muscular Christianity, and to the better 
understanding that now obtains of the mysterious interdepend- 
ence of body and soul. It is now seen that a system which 
produces Henry Kirke Whites cannot be described as a suc- 
cessful system. It is now felt that the culture of the body is, 
in fact, an important part of the education of the mind ; that 
the body has rights which must be respected, if we would not 
goad it into rebellion. A man does not think the less deeply 
or judge the less clearly because he can walk, and row, and 
ride, and leap, and swim. The pale, sickly student, who sits 
up o' nights, and allows the rosy dawn to surprise him at his 



BRAIN AND BODY. 2$ 3 

studies, makes a very pretty figure in poetry, but no figure at 
all in real life. In the long-run stamina prevails, and he is 
hopelessly out-distanced by his more prudent and healthier 
competitors. " There is an organization," says Henry Ward 
Beecher, " which we call the nervous system in the human 
body," — he who neglects it will soon have indisputable proof of 
its existence ! — " to which belong the functions of emotion, in- 
telligence, sensation, and it is connected intimately with the 
whole circulation of the blood, with the condition of the blood 
as affected by the liver, and by aeration in the lungs. The 
manufacture of the blood is dependent upon the stomach ; so 
a man is what is what he is, not in one part or another, but all 
over. One part is intimately connected with the other, from 
the animal stomach to the throbbing brain, and when a man 
thinks, he thinks the whole trunk through." That these are 
truths, and vital truths, any physiologist will assure the reader, 
and the sooner he comes to acknowledge their importance the 
better it will be for him. " Man's power comes from the 
generating forces that are in him, namely, the digestion of 
nutritious food into vitalized blood, made fine by oxygenation, 
an organization by which that blood has free course to flow and 
be glorified, a neck that will allow the blood to run up and 
down easily, a brain properly organized and balanced, the 
whole system so compounded as to have susceptibilities and 
recuperative force, immense energy to generate resources, and 
facility to give them out — all these elements go to determine 
what a man's working power is." 

The biography of great men reads us a clear and unmistaka- 
ble lesson on this point. The men who have succeeded are 
the men of tough fibre, strong frame, remarkable powers of 



254 THE RACE AND THE ATHLETE. 

endurance, and steady nerve. It is not to be denied that 

heroic things have sometimes been done by heroes of weak 

bodies and feeble health. We do not forget that Pascal was 

an invalid at eighteen ; that Shelley was of the frailest and 

most susceptible organization ; that Pope was of weak health 

and deformed person, and so short that his chair had to be 

raised to place him on a level with the rest of the company at 

table ; or that William III. was a martyr to asthma. Yet, 

rightly looked at, these cases do but confirm and strengthen 

our argument. Had Pascal been gifted with a sturdy frame, 

he might have completed that magnum opus of which he has 

left only the skeleton. Had Pope been healthy and robust, 

his poetry would have gained in wholesomeness and geniality. 

And Shelley's ideal music would have had more substance if 

his organization had been less acutely susceptible. A healthy 

poet, like Wordsworth, writes healthy poetry. The manliness, 

the vigor, the vitality of the songs of Burns are partly due to 

the fact that he walked 

" In glory and in joy 
Behind his plough upon the mountain-side." 

Chaucer was a man of thews and muscle, who, when some 
London citizens wronged him — 

" Prepared his body for Mars his doing, 
If any contraried his saws." 

^schylus carried his sword and shield into the thick of the 
fight at Salamis. Byron swam across the Hellespont, and the 
vigor of his limbs infused vigor into his verse. The mascu- 
line, copious, and elastic diction of Dryden consorts with the 
strength and energy of his physical organization. He must 
have been sixty-seven years old when he wrote his " Alexan- 



MUSCULAR CHRISTIANITY. 255 

der's Feast," of which Hallam justly says, that "every one 
places it among the first of its class, and many allow it no rival." 
It has been well said that in every calling men need that 
sturdy vigor, that bodily strength and agility, which to a cer- 
tain extent, are within their own command, and without which 
mental culture leads only to disappointment and mortification. 
In sculpture, take Canova and Gibson ; in painting, the glo- 
rious Rubens, with his exultant vitality ; Titian, Caracci, 
Michel Angelo, our own Turner, and Sir Joshua Reynolds. 
Among orators, we may point to Curran, Webster, and Glad- 
stone, the last of whom amuses his leisure by felling trees. 
Among statesmen, we find Bismarck described as " very tall, 
of enormous weight, with every part of his gigantic frame well- 
proportioned." That work does not kill healthy men, was 
exemplified in Lyndhurst, who spoke with vigorous eloquence 
in the House of Lords at the age of ninety ; in Palmerston, 
who ruled with a firm and even hand when an octogenarian ; 
in Brougham, whose activity was incessant long after he had 
passed the rubicon of threescore and ten. As to divines, we 
know that Calvin had a stout chest of his own, and John Knox 
would have been no contemptible antagonist in a wrestle. 
Hugh Latimer was a man of fine thews and muscle. Isaac 
Barrow, in his youth, was a sturdy pugilist. John Bunyan, 
like Whitfield, was gifted with extraordinary powers of endur- 
ance ; and Wesley could never have organized his great 
religious community had he not been capable of arduous and 
continuous labor. Andrew Fuller, when a farmer's boy, was 
skilled in boxing, and in later life carried his skill into polem- 
ics ; and Adam Clarke, when a lad, could " roll large stones 
about " as easily as he afterwards disposed of a difficult propo- 
sition in theology. 



256 THE RACE AND THE ATHLETE. 

It is noteworthy how many eminent men have sprung from 
the laboring class, and we can hardly doubt that their success 
in life was largely influenced by the physical exercise of their 
early years. Ben Jonson worked at the building of Lincoln's 
Inn with a book in his pocket and a trowel in his hand, and 
the sturdiness of his frame is reflected, so to speak, in the 
sturdiness of his character. Hugh Miller, the journalist and 
geologist, labored as a stone-mason. John Hunter, the distin- 
guished physiologist, handled hammer and chisel in his early 
years ; and Opie, the painter, was also in his youth apprenticed 
to a carpenter. George Stephenson began life in a coal-pit, 
and on one occasion defeated in a hand-to-hand fight " Ned 
Nelson, the fighting pitman of Callerton," and the bully of the 
whole district. His achievements in his more prosperous man- 
hood are attributed by his biographer to his having been 
trained in a hard school, so that he could bear with ease " con- 
ditions which, to men softly nurtured, would have been the 
extreme of physical discomfort." " Many, many nights he 
snatched his sleep while travelling in his chaise, and at break of 
day he would be at work surveying until dark, and this for 
weeks in succession. His whole powers seemed to be under 
the control of his will, for he could wake at any hour, and go 
on with his work at once." 

We are inclined to believe that De Foe owed much of the 
masculine energy of his intellect to the out-of-door training of 
his youth. Bunyan began life as a tinker, sub jove; Berwick, 
the prince of wood engravers, in a coal-mine. Vauquelin, the 
chemist, was the son of a peasant in the Calvados. Hodson of 
Hodson's Horse, one of the most brilliant of our Anglo-Indian 
cavaliers, admitted that his success in India was due physically 



" SPADE OF A FRIEND." 2$? 

speaking, to a " sound digestion," and this sound digestion he 
owed to the athletic habits of his youth. Professor Wilson, 
the well-known " Christopher North " of the " Noctes Ambro- 
sianae," was a devoted lover of athletic pastimes to the last, 
and we are sure that the ripe exuberance of his thought and 
style, his vivacity and his enthusiasm, came from the bodily 
vigor, the animal robustness, which was preserved by long 
walks, tramping over heath and fell, and much fishing. Elihu 
Burritt, the learned blacksmith, asserts that he found hard 
labor necessary to make him study successfully, and more than 
once abandoned his books and returned to his forge and anvil 
to secure the mens sana in sano corpore. We do not wonder 
that Wordsworth addressed some thoughtful verses to the 
"Spade of a Friend," for he doubtless knew that his friend 
had gained health and happiness by the frequent use of that 
honorable implement. He exclaims — 

" Who shall inherit thee when death has laid 

Low in the darksome cell thine own dear lord ? 
That man will have a trophy, humble spade — 
A trophy nobler than a conqueror's sword ! 

" If he be one that feels, with skill to part 

False praise from true, or greater from the less, 
Thee will he welcome to his hand and heart, 
Thou monument of peaceful happiness ! 

" With thee he will not dread a toilsome day. 
His powerful servant, his inspiring mate ; 
And, when thou art past service, worn away, 
Thee a surviving soul shall consecrate. 

1 His thrift thy uselessness will never scorn ; 
An heirloom in his cottage wilt thou be : 
High will he hang thee up, and will adorn, 
His rustic chimney with the last of thee ! " 

The spade is fully worthy of the homage paid to it by the poet. 
If some of our men of letters, our merchants, our traders, our 



258 THE RACE AND THE ATHLETE. 

young men, would handle it a little now and then, the air would 
be less loaded with sighs and complaints, and our ears less 
fatigued with homilies on the vanity of life ! If a man have 
an attack of despondency, and feel an inclination to rail at fate, 
let him grasp his spade, as Ruskin advises, sally forth into his 
garden, and do an hour's gardening. He will return to his 
books or his business with renewed hope and recruited energy. 
Every man should be his own gardener, if no other out-of-door 
pursuit be within his reach. 

Daniel Webster said of the English people that their flag 
waved on every sea and in every port, and that the morning 
drum-beat of their soldiers, following the sun and keeping 
company with the hours, circled the earth " with one continual, 
unbroken strain of the martial airs of England." This position 
of superiority is to be explained by the hardy virtues of the 
race and the freedom of their institutions, but also, in no small 
degree, by the courage, pluck and daring fostered by their 
athletic habits. Whether it be true or not that Wellington, 
when watching the boys at Eton engaged in their usual sports 
in the playfield, remarked, " It was there that the battle of 
Waterloo was won," it is not doubtful that the national prowess 
has been encouraged and developed by the national love of 
boating, cricketing, wrestling, sporting, and every exercise which 
has in it an element of risk and makes a demand on the 
capacity of endurance. The hardiness acquired in the play- 
ground is turned to good account in the senate chamber and 
the battle-field. So keen is the devotion of the Englishman to 
what he fondly calls the national sports, that he carries them 
with him wherever he goes, and plays cricket under the burn- 
ing skies of India. A boat-race on the Thames attracts thous- 



GYMNASTICS. 2 59 

ands of excited spectators, who cheer the winners as if they 
had done some high service to their country. Gymnastic 
games will always draw a crowd, and a foot-ball scrimmage 
awaken as much enthusiasm as the news of a great victory. 
No doubt this passion for the athletic has its dangerous side, 
and has tended to give to purely physical exercises an undue 
predominance in the curriculum of our schools and colleges. 
But on the whole its influence has been wholesome. The sound 
body brings with it the sound mind, and in every wise system 
of education provision will be made for its hygiene. The athlete 
who would run the race with honor must have steady nerves 
and a healthy digestion. It is related of Cicero that, at one 
period of his life, overwork had brought with it its usual con- 
sequence, an attack of dyspepsia, which completely overcame 
him. The orator, instead of resorting to physicians and physic, 
repaired to Greece, entered the gymnasium of Athens, for two 
years observed its regimen strictly, and then returned to Rome 
with both mind and body in perfect health. And it has been 
well said that the intellectual power of the two great Greek 
philosophers, Aristotle and Plato, arose in a large degree from 
that harmonious education in which the body was not less con- 
sulted than the mind. That the Stagyrite influenced the world 
of thought to the day of Bacon, and that the author of the 
" Phaedon " still charms and quickens the imagination of the 
West, can be explained by the fact that both were men not 
only of the highest genius, but of genius happily set, and that 
the clear current of their ideas was never perturbed or impeded 
by the action of corporeal infirmities. 

" To do his work cheerfully and well," says a writer, " every 
professional man needs a working constitution, and this can be 



260 THE RACE AND THE ATHLETE. 

got only by daily exercise in the open air. The atmosphere we 
breathe is an exhalation of all the minerals of the globe, the 
most elaborately finished of all the Creator's works — the rock of 
ages disintegrated and prepared for the life of man. Draughts 
of this are the true stimulants, more potent acd healthful than 
champagne or cognac, ' so cheap at the custom-house, so dear 
at the hotels.' The thorough aeration of the blood by deep 
inhalations of air, so as to bring it into contact with the whole 
breathing surface of the lungs, is indispensable to him who 
would maintain that full vital power on which the vigorous 
working-power of the brain so largely depends. Sydney Smith 
tells public speakers that if they would walk twelve miles before 
speaking they would never break down. The English people 
understand this, and hence at the Universities boat races, 
horseback rides, and two-mile walks, are practically a part of 
the educational course. English lawyers and members of Par- 
liament acquire vigor of body and clearness of head for their 
arduous labors by riding with the hounds, shooting grouse on 
the Scottish moors, throwing the fly into the waters of Norway, 
or climbing the Alpine cliffs. Peel, Brougham, Lyndhurst, 
Campbell, Bright, Gladstone — nearly all the great political and 
legal leaders, the prodigious workers at the bar and in the 
senate — have been full-chested men, who have been as sedulous 
to train their bodies as to train their intellects." " If our Ameri- 
can leaders," says this writer, "accomplish less, and die earlier, 
it is because they neglect the care of the body, and put will- 
force in the place of physical strength." 

This is not a " Manual of Health " or a book of medical 
advice, and therefore we shall attempt no detailed explanation 
of the hygienic system by which the "sound body " may be 



TEMPERA NCE. 26 1 

built up. The first consideration is temperance, and the second 
is open-air exercise. As to the first, we mean by it a steady- 
control of all the appetites. All excess is dangerous and sinful. 
Deviations from the Divine law of purity are even more heinous 
and hurtful than immoderate enjoyment of the pleasures of the 
table. Be temperate in all things. " Eat that you may live," as 
the old adage puts it, " and not live that you may eat." How- 
ever, in denouncing intemperance, our moralists have generally 
in view the vice of drunkenness, and it is the prolific parent of 
so many other vices that their exclusive vehemence may well 
be forgiven. What good can be expected from a brain sodden 
with wine, fired and wasted by alcohol ? To what standard is 
it possible for a man bemused with beer to rise ? We do not 
desire to enforce the tenets of teetotalism, but the strictest 
temperance in the use of alcoholic liquors we must plainly put 
forward as indispensable to a healthy and honorable life. In- 
toxication has ruined many a career of promise. Whether a 
glass of wine or a glass of beer once or twice a day be or be 
not allowable, or even for some constitutions beneficial, it is not 
our province here to argue. The question is one to be decided 
on physiological as well as on moral grounds, and we have not 
the space to enter into it. But we can express our belief that 
the man who finds that he can work upon water only would be 
a fool if he took anything else ! Let him be thankful for the 
clear brain and cool judgment that water-drinking brings with 
it, and seek in their unrestrained exercise that enjoyment which 
so many unwisely seek in the wine-cup. Water will nev£r 
destroy him, but, unless he has an iron will, he can never be 
secure against wine or spirits. The first glass may lead him on 
to a second, and thence he may advance to the bottle, until, at 



262 



THE RACE AND THE ATHLETE. 



last, he awaken to find himself cast down from his throne of 
manhood by the demon of drunkenness ! 

The second consideration is open-air exercise. Here, again, 
we do not pretend to lay down any rules. One man may walk 
his twelve or sixteen miles a day ; for another, five or six will 
amply suffice. The amount must depend on a man's physical 
condition. For our own part, we advocate regular and moderate 
daily exercise throughout the year, rather than such " spurts " 
as vacation walking-parties, or climbing Ben Nevis, or a week's 
boating excursion. No man should be in the open air less than 
two hours a day ; if possible, the two should be extended into 
four. We strongly recommend walking as the healthiest, and, on 
the whole, most pleasant exercise ; but the reader is free to 
alternate it with riding, leaping, fishing, swimming, shooting, if 
he will. What he has to remember is, first, that his exercise 
must be proportioned to the amount of his sedentariness ; and 
next, that it is intended to refresh, and not to fatigue, the body. 
The walk or ride, whenever feasible, should have an object, and 
will be none the less beneficial for the presence of a sensible 
companion. Again, we say, be temperate. Immoderate exer- 
cise as surely shatters the intellect and breaks down the body 
as immoderate study. When a man begins to feel fatigued, he 
should immediately give up. 

With proper care, a good brisk walk may be made to act like 
a tonic ; to give a fillip to the brain, and to pour fresh hope 
into the heart, and even to purify and strengthen the soul. 
But then it must be made in pleasant scenery, or in company 
with a well-informed friend, or directed towards some point of 
interest. It must be enjoyable exercise, so that the mind may 
benefit as well as the body, the imagination acquiring a new 



MODERA TION IN ALL THINGS. 263 

power and freshness, the fancy gaining a new stimulus. Nothing 
seems to us drearier or less beneficial than the " daily consti- 
tutional " which at Bath or Tunbridge Wells the chalybeate 
water-drinker punctiliously performs. Doing sentry duty in 
front of a dead wall must be as inspiriting as a task ! It is 
only when a man keeps his eyes open, and has a lively percep- 
tion of the beauties of nature or the various aspects of humanity, 
that he can make a " constitutional " endurable. It is a truism, 
however, that intellectual and moral as well as physical health 
can be maintained only by regular exercise. 

Let the exercise, we repeat, be moderate. Proportion the 
burden to the strength of the back that bears it. Do not recom- 
mend to the man of fifty an achievement that would be arduous 
for the youth of twenty, or to the victim of a sedentary career 
the " over-country gallop " suitable for a fox-hunting squire. 
Some students seem of opinion that the best way to counteract 
the evil effects of inordinate mental exercise is by taking exces- 
sive physical exercise ; but that is simply to burn the candle at 
both ends. The body, after suffering from the depression of 
the exhausted mind, is set to perform a task considerably above 
its strength, and, as a necessary consequence, avenges itself 
upon the delicate creature which is at once its slave and its 
master. We know a case of a student who, having victoriously 
passed a difficult examination after nights and days of arduous 
study, set out — "to pick himself up," as he said — on a week's 
pedestrian excursion. For six days he walked his score of 
miles a day, and on the seventh was laid up with brain fever. 
Like everything else, exercise is a capital thing, but you may 
have too much of it. Many men have unconsciously sown the 
seeds of premature decay in their constitutions by mountain- 



264 THE RACE AND THE ATHLETE, 

climbing or excessive riding, just as the boat-race between 
Oxford and Cambridge has injured for life many a stalwart 
young oarsman by the severity of the training enforced upon 
the selected competitors. We are not at all sure that neglect 
of exercise is more injurious than the intemperate use of it ; 
for the latter extreme draws upon that reserved force of strength 
and vitality which we need to meet any unusual and critical 
demand. No sensible mechanician would work an engine at 
double its ordinary and proper speed because it had been lying 
idle for a time. It is a most mischievious thing for adults 
who have had no preliminary training in early life to resort to 
gymnastics as a means of exercise. The result is an exhaus- 
tion, an intolerable fatigue, which is wholly incompatible with 
brain-work, and absolutely dangerous to the nervous system. 

The sum of it all is, that the man who would live purely and 
think nobly, would put his faculties and endowments to their 
best uses, and discharge his life-mission with a lofty complete- 
ness, must be wisely heedful of his physical health. He must 
not attempt more than his constitution is fitted to perform, or 
he will accomplish less. 

An American jurist of some eminence admits that he could 
have done twice as much as he has done, and done it better 
and with greater ease to himself, had he learned as much of the 
laws of health and life at twenty-one as the experience of years 
has taught him at no small cost of pain and suffering. " In 
college," he says, "I was taught all about the motions of the 
planets, as carefully as though they would have been in danger 
of getting off the track if I had not known now to trace their 
orbits ; but about my own organization, and the conditions 
indispensable to the healthful functions of my own body, I was 



FRIENDSHIPS. 26$ 

left in profound ignorance. Nothing could be more prepos- 
terous. I ought to have begun at home, and taken the stars 
when it should come their turn. The consequence was, I broke 
down at the beginning of my second college year, and have 
never had a well day since. Whatever labor I have since been 
able to do, I have done it all on credit instead of capital — a 
most ruinous way, either in regard to health or money. For 
the last twenty-five years, so far as it regards health, I have 
been put from day to day on my good behavior ; and during 
the whole of this period, as an Hibernian would say, if I had 
lived as other folks do for a month, I should have died in a 
fortnight." 

2. Intellectual. — In running the race of life, it is well for us 
to be careful of the friendships we make. A man is said to be 
known by the company he keeps. It is true that a man may 
consort with evil persons and yet himself be not absolutely evil, 
may, in fact, oftentimes revolt in his heart against their wicked- 
ness ; yet even in such a case the proverb applies, for his weak- 
ness will be apparent in his not separating from them. So that 
we shall never go far wrong in judging a man according to his 
companions. It is difficult to lay down any rule for a young 
man's guidance in forming friendships ; but generally it may be 
said, that he should always look up, should always fix upon 
minds loftier and purer than his own, as Atticus looked up to 
Cicero, and Cassius to Brutus, and Xenophon to Socrates, and 
Lord Brooke to Sir Philip Sidney. Our friendships in this way 
become a portion of our education, and are made useful in the 
development of those possibilities of good in our character 
which might otherwise have been concealed. It follows that 
we must choose a friend because he is honorable, pure, gentle, 



266 THE RACE AND THE ATHLETE. 

manly, refined, and truthful — because we can trust to him our 
weaker nature, in the assurance that he will not betray it — 
because he will encourage us in our better aspirations and ruth- 
lessly arrest the growth of our coarser propensities — because he 
will not fear to speak to us the words of candid counsel, and, 
if need be, of stern reproof. The value of such a friend it is 
impossible to over-estimate. Who shall describe all that Burke 
was to Charles James Fox, or Herbert Edwardes to the gallant 
Nicholson ? 

There are friendships we all know of, such as that between 
Southampton and Sidney, between Peel and Wellington, be- 
tween Hare and Sterling, between Kingsley and Maurice, 
which amount to a golden union of souls, and involve a close 
moral and intellectual fellowship of the happiest character. 
Strengthened and cheered by such a fellowship, the runner may 
enter on the race of life with confidence. He cannot be 
wholly defeated ; let him lose everything else, and he will still 
retain the heart of his friend. It seems to us worth any sacri- 
fice of self to consummate such a friendship : and without self- 
sacrifice it will forever be impossible. 

" If thou wouldst get a friend," says an old writer, "prove 
him first, and be not hasty to credit him ; for some men are 
friends for their own occasion, and will not abide in the day of 
thy trouble. Separate thyself from thine enemies, and take heed 
to thy friends. A faithful friend is a strong defence ; and he 
that hath found such an one hath found a treasure. A faithful 
friend is the medicine of life." 

A friend's influence upon our character must always be con- 
siderable. It was said by those best acquainted with the late 
John Sterling, that it was impossible to come into contact with 



EQUALITY IN FRIENDSHIP. 267 

him, and not in some measure be ennobled and lifted up into a 
loftier region of aim and object. Hence the necessity of guard- 
ing, in our choice of friends, against natures of a lower order 
than our own. Unless our will be strong, our purpose high, 
our own character well balanced, they will drag us down to 
their base level. But from the wise words or spotless example 
of a true friend and fit companion, our minds will often receive 
an impulse to exertion and an incentive to elevated, earnest, 
and devout thought. On the other hand, there must be some- 
thing of an equality in friendship. We must give as well as 
receive. We must really and truly be friends, like Coleridge and 
Southey ; not king and serf, like Dr. Johnson aud Boswell. No 
doubt Boswell profited to some extent by his intimacy with 
Johnson, as a dog does by following a kind master ; but the 
profit would have been greater if the relation between them had 
been of a different complexion. We do not deny that it is well 
to be the follower of a great man ; honest admiration has a fine 
effect upon the mind ; but this is not true friendship. We can 
hardly go to our teacher with that full confidence, that frank 
confession, that absolute self-surrender, with which we go to 
our friend. 

But even better than the best of friends is a good wife. 
Perhaps we should rather say that a good wife is the best of 
all friends. We hold it essential to a young man's success, 
whether his calling be that of merchant or trader, priest, engi- 
neer, or lawyer, artist or man of letters, that he should marry 
well and marry early. The prejudice against early marriages 
seems to us to have originated in sordid motives. It is inti- 
mately connected with that selfishness, that love of outward 
show, and that luxurious indulgence which have corrupted our 



268 THE RACE AND THE ATHLETE. 

social system. It seems to be assumed that marriage must 
be deferred until the man has " sown his wild oats," in other 
words, has sullied his soul by contact with the whole circle of 
the world's pleasures, and the woman can be placed at the head 
of an expensive household. Now we are convinced, from long 
observation, that an early marriage is a young man's surest 
guarantee of happiness. We are sure that it is his best security 
against temptation, and the most admirable incentive to honest 
and independent .exertion that can be presented to him. To 
love a good woman is in itself a fine education ; to marry her 
and work for her is in itself a source of the truest happiness. 
Early marriages sometimes turn out ill, and so do late mar- 
riages ; so do all marriages which are made in an unworthy 
spirit or for mean purposes, which are not marriages of heart 
and soul and mind, but " alliances " contracted for worldly 
reasons or no reasons at all. It is requisite that a man in 
seeking a wife should take at least as much thought as in 
seeking a friend ; should endeavor to know something of her 
temper, character, and disposition ; should ascertain whether 
her nature will harmonise with his, and whether it be one 
which he can respect and admire. If it be unwise to choose a 
friend who falls below our own standard, much more unwise is 
it to choose a wife who cannot be our companion on terms of 
the fullest equality, who cannot share our thoughts, our aspira- 
tions, and our hopes. 

Supposing a young man to have met with a maiden to whom 
he can unreservedly trust his future happiness, we say that the 
sooner he makes her his wife the better for both of them. Let 
them spend in sweet and joyful union their early years of exer- 
tion and industry, and those early years will furnish them with 



MARRIAGE. 269 

pleasant memories to be recalled in the autumn days of life, 
when the battle has been fought, and, let us hope, the victory- 
won. It is a good thing for a husband and wife to have the 
same past to look back upon. Again, what can be more unfair 
than that a man who has expended his ripe manhood in gross 
self-indulgence should offer his wasted, decayed, and battered 
nature to a young girl, with all the bloom of spring still upon 
her mind and heart ? For it is to be observed that those who 
condemn early marriages condemn them only for the man and 
not for the woman. They do not say that a man of forty should 
marry a woman of the same age. No, indeed ; he is free to offer 
himself, with his world-weary exhausted heart and his " hand- 
some settlements," to maidenhood in all its freshness and all its 
innocence ! In such a case there can seldom be any thorough 
sympathy, any heart-to-heart understanding, between husband 
and wife. Not only is the difference of years between them, 
but a past which they have not shared together ; experiences on 
the husband's side wholly unknown to the wife ; young hopes 
and aspirations on the wife's side at which the husband cannot 
even guess. Let him who would enter on the race of life with 
reasonable anticipations of success not neglect to secure at 
starting not only a good friend but a good wife ; he may haply 
dispense with the former, but for his soul's sake he cannot do 
without the latter. But then, he must first look upon marriage 
as a boon from God, to be gained from Him alone by earnest 
prayer, by intense repentance, and complete confession of 
youthful sins. " Man," says Charles Kingsley, " is a spirit- 
animal, and, in communion with God's Spirit, has a right to 
believe that his affections are under that Spirit's guidance, and 
that when he finds in himself such an affection to any single 



270 THE RACE AND THE A THLETE. 

woman as true, married lovers describe theirs to be, he is bound 

(duty to parents and country allowing) to give himself up to his 

love in childlike simplicity and self-abandonment, and, at the 

same time, with solemn awe and self-humiliation at being thus 

re-admitted into the very garden of the Lord — 

" The Eden where the spirit and the flesh 
Are one again, and new-born souls walk free, 
And name in mystic language all things new, 
Naked and not ashamed." 

To do justice to the subject of the mental training requisite 
for him who would run worthily the race of life, would claim a 
volume equal in size to the present. So rich is it in suggestion, 
so fertile in illustration ! In preceding chapters we have en- 
larged on the value of habits of diligence, perseverance, patience, 
and punctuality; on the necessity of a strong will and a clear 
judgment ; on the importance of self-reliance. These are what 
may be called commonplace qualities, on which every teacher 
has spoken wise saws and repeated modern instances from the 
days when first the race of life began down to the present time, 
when it is pursued with such mad eagerness and feverish ex- 
citement. There are points less frequently brought forward on 
which, however, advice is not less necessary. Some of these 
are treated vigorously and felicitously in such books as Todd's 
" Student's Manual " and Professor Blackie's " Self Culture." 
Others are directly or incidentally illustrated by such thinkers 
as Carlyle, Emerson, the authors of " Guesses at Truth," and 
Sir Arthur Helps. Hints which the reader can hardly fail to 
apply with advantage are scattered through modern biographies, 
such, for instance, as those of F. W. Robertson and Charles 
Kingsley. From these the young man will learn to direct his 
life by a noble motive, to think with clearness and decision, .to 



RESER VED PO WER. 27 1 

sympathize with all that is true, honest, and beautiful, to dis- 
card mean and ungenerous impulses, and in other ways so to 
conduct himself as that running he " may obtain." 

As not less important than that economy of money which is 
insisted upon so strongly by all our moralists, we would recom- 
mend an economy of i?iental power. Many of us waste our 
resources in the early stages of our career, forgetful that the 
race is won by the stayi?ig power of the runners. Napoleon 
gained his victories by his judicious employment of his reserves. 
The general who risks all his forces in a single charge must ex- 
pect and will deserve defeat. It is not the first blow that strikes 
home the nail, and what is to be done if we leave ourselves no 
strength with which to strike a second, and a third, or it may 
be a hundredth ? It has been often said of England that when 
at war she loses in her first campaigns, and owes her final 
success to her immense reserved power, which enables her 
to persevere when her rivals have spent all their resources. 
" They do not know when they are beaten," said the French 
general of our English soldiers. No, they were not beaten ; 
they had still an abundant store of energy and fighting force. 
The French warrior, with the battle-light in his eyes, springs 
forward at the bugle-sound, and dashes against his foe like a 
wave against a rock, to fall back like that wave, exhausted and 
unsuccessful if the foe meet him with a steadfast front. On the 
other hand, the English soldier advances with a slow, firm step, 
and, keeping himself always well in hand, prevails in the long- 
run by his persistency. Nothing but the "reserved power," 
which we take to be the distinctive mark of the English charac- 
ter, enabled us to retain our position in India during the wild 
throes of the Sepoy Mutiny. 



272 THE RA CE AND THE A THLE TE. 

Read aright, the fable of the tortoise and the hare points a 
moral in this direction. The hare was beaten by the tortoise 
because the latter possessed the staying faculty. At school and 
at college we frequently see the prizes carried off by the men 
whom an ignorant impatience had criticised as dull, slow, and in- 
capable plodders, while the dashing, brilliant fellows, apparently 
sure of victory without an effort, were left hopelessly behind in 
the race. They had no reserve to fall back upon, while the 
former had a latent accumulation of strength on which they 
drew at need, enabling them to meet every demand. 

It is hardly necessary to say that we can hold no such reserve 
as that of which we are speaking unless we submit to the se- 
verest self-discipline. We must be content to wait and watch, 
to husband our powers, to accumulate materials, to cultivate 
habits of rigorous thought and exact judgment, to conquer 
hasty impulses, and enforce a strict restraint upon our passions. 
The vigor and certainty with which a great painter wields his 
brush and manipulates his colors, until the thought in his brain 
becomes visible to all men on the enchanted canvas, have been 
acquired by long and assiduous practice, by the discipline and 
self-command of patient years. And this discipline and self- 
command have given him so thorough a knowledge of his 
resources that he undertakes nothing which he cannot execute. 
He is always sure of himself, confident that he can do all that 
he meditates, and that when that is done he can do yet more. 
The poet who wrote " Comus " and " Samson Agonistes " knew 
that he had by no means expended on those masterpieces all 
his powers. He had still a reserve, a magnificent reserve, at 
his disposal, and could give the world the grand organ music of 
" Paradise Lost." Turner had not exhausted himself when he 



GOETHE. 273 

had painted his " Carthage ; " many a glorious picture was still 
to bear witness to the fertility of his genius. It is an imprudent 
policy for a man to lavish his strength upon a single work, so 
that all his after-efforts should bring with them a consciousness 
of failure. Look at Philip James Bailey ; his one successful 
poem, published in his early manhood, was his " Festus." It 
used up his powers, so that he has done notliing since to main- 
tain the reputation he then acquired. On the other hand, a 
Goethe begins with " Goetz von Berlichingen " and " Werther " 
to advance to " Wilhelm Meister " and to conclude with " Faust." 
We allow, of course, for the superiority of genius. But even 
when this is admitted, it is evident that Goethe's later successes 
were due to his " reserved power." Mr. Hayward, in a recent 
essay, speaks of " the unabated eagerness with which Goethe 
persevered in what he deemed the duty of self-culture ; " even 
when he was eighty years old, he was still accumulating and 
husbanding his resources as he had done in the flush of his man- 
hood. One of the lessons to be drawn from his " Faust " is 
that which we are here endeavoring to enforce, that it is irre- 
trievable folly to exhaust our capabilities at the beginning, that 
the wise man is he who lays up in his garner to meet after- 
demands. Otherwise, if he should chance to encounter a 
defeat, as we all inevitably must or life would be no battle, we 
shall finish in a ruin as absolute as that which overtook Napoleon 
at Waterloo, and for the same reason — the want of a reserve. 

A striking anecdote is told of the American general, Sheridan. 
Returning to his army, on one occasion, after an absence of a 
few days, he found that it was being driven back before the 
vigorous advance of the Confederates under General Early. 
" Sir," said the generaf whom he had left in command, " we are 



274 THE RA CE AND THE A THLE TE. 

beaten." " No, sir," was the quick, stern reply ; "you are 
beaten, but this army is not beaten." And rallying the soldiers 
by the impulse of his own confidence, he turned the tide of 
battle, and converted a defeat into a victory. Sheridan had a 
reserve of moral and intellectual force in which his leader was 
deficient. At the appearance of disaster the one was demoral- 
ized, the other roused and strengthened ; the former had spent 
all his means, the latter had scarcely drawn upon his. 

When young Disraeli, now the Prime Minister of England, 
made his proud boast in the House of Commons, after a speech 
which had provoked outbursts of laughter, — " The day will 
come when you will be glad to hear me," — he spoke with a 
knowledge of the abundant power he kept in hand. Superficial 
observers thought he had made his great effort and failed. 
Disraeli knew that he had the strength to try again and again 
until he succeeded. This is the true moral of the pretty story 
of Robert Bruce and the spider ; the insect succeeded at the 
thirteenth trial, because it possessed a reserve of material which 
enabled it to try thirteen times. But if it had thrown all its 
powers into its first effort, what then ? Of what avail would 
have been the willingness to persevere ? The Alpine climber 
may yearn with all his mind and soul to reach the lofty peak 
that glitters high above him with sun-glories shining on its crown 
of eternal snow ; but alas ! if he has wasted his energies in too 
violent exertion on the lower slopes, he must lie where he has 
fallen ; the glow of victory is not for him. 

We borrow an illustration from an American source, the life 
of Daniel Webster. In 1830, a debate had arisen in the United 
States Senate on the disposition of the public lands. At the 
outset it was not considered an attractive or an exciting sub- 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 275 

ject, and for some days the debate was exceedingly dull. The 
vast " reserve power " of one man was destined, however, to 
lift it into historical importance. A speech of a Mr. Hayne, to 
which Webster, the great orator, was called upon to reply, had 
been distinguished by much ability, and constituted a very 
sharp attack upon New England and Mr. Webster, its repre- 
sentative. But Mr. Hayne, says Dr. Thomas, did not under- 
stand this matter of reserved power. " He had seen Mr. 
Webster's van and corps of battle, but had not heard the firm 
and measured tread behind. It was a decisive moment in 
Mr. Webster's career. He had no time to impress new forces, 
scarcely time to burnish his armor. All eyes were turned to 
him. Some of his best friends were depressed and anxious. 
He was calm as a summer's morning — calm, his friends thought, 
even to indifference. But his calmness was the repose of con- 
scious power." He had carefully measured his strength, and 
was in full possession of himself and his means. He knew the 
composition of his " army of the reserve." With the eye of a 
great general he surveyed the whole field of battle at a glance. 
He had the prescience of logic, and could see the end from the 
beginning. 

The very exordium of his reply had in it the promise, nay, 
the assurance of victory. " Men saw the sun of Austerlitz, and 
felt that the Imperial Guard was moving on to the conflict. 
He came out of the conflict with the immortal name of the 
Defender of the Constitution." Of this speech, and the mode 
of its delivery, a competent authority said, " It has been my 
fortune to hear some of the ablest speeches of the greatest living 
orators on botn sides of the water, but I confess I never heard 
of anything which so completely realized my conception of 



2?6 THE race AND THE ATHLETE. 

what Demosthenes was when he delivered the Oration for the 
Crown." Mr. Webster's biographer adds, that "taking into 
view the circumstances under which the speech was delivered, 
and especially the brief time for preparation, the importance of 
the subject, the breadth of its views, the strength and clearness 
of its reasoning, the force and beauty of its style, its keen wit, 
its repressed but subduing passion, its lofty strains of eloquence, 
its effect upon its audience, and the larger audience of a grate- 
ful and admiring country, history has no nobler example of 
reserved power brought at once and effectively into action." 
There is a certain amount of exaggeration in this description, 
but it does not invalidate the appo'siteness of the illustration, 
Unquestionably Daniel Webster had a large amount of reserved 
power, as all consummate orators must have, or they would fall 
easy victims to their opponents. It is in the reply that true 
oratorical excellence is manifested ; and a successful reply is 
impossible unless the speaker can draw upon an accumulation 
of force. The victory is yours when you can impress your ad- 
versary with the conviction that you are not putting forth 
more than half your strength. 

To acquire and retain this reserve of power is not easy. It 
is that part of a man's education which depends most upon 
himself, nay, for which he must trust to himself alone. Deep, 
earnest, patient study is indispensable ; continuous study, kept 
up from day to day and proceeding from one subject to another ; 
methodical study, enforcing an exact systemization of our 
thoughts as of our time. When Mr. Binney was asked by a 
young clergyman how best he could improve his preaching, he 
answered, Fill up the cask ! fill up the cask ! fill up the cask ! 
and then if you tap it anywhere, you will get a good stream. 



PATIENT THINKING. 2JJ 

But if you put in but little, it will dribble, dribble, dribble, and 
you must tap, tap, tap, and then you get but a small stream 
after all." The age of miracles is past, and the cruse of oil and 
the vessel of meal will not be replenished unless you fill them 
with your own hand. 

But patient study is not so valuable as patient thinking. We 
are none the better for our daily food if we are unable to as- 
similate it. If we store up materials with the diligence of the 
bee, we need the bee's power of elaborating them into wax or 
honey. A man whose brain is crushed beneath a superincum- 
bent weight of accumulated facts has no active intellectual ex- 
istence of his own ; he does not think or feel, he simply collects. 
He has no idea of the relations towards one another of the facts 
he has gathered, of their comparative value, of their bearing 
upon particular lines of reflection. He is like the laborer who 
piles up by the wayside a great heap of stone or iron ; what 
can he do with it until the engineer has planned the road or 
designed the bridge ? But the true student will be laborer and 
engineer in one ; his brain will dispose of the store which his 
memory has stored and assorted. He will study profoundly, 
but he will also think profoundly. He will not be content with 
amassing the thoughts of other men, but will strain them 
through his own intellectual alembic until he gets at their most 
precious elements. What will it avail to know all about the 
stamen and petals of the daisy if he make no attempt to think 
out the thought that lies in the cup of that " wee, modest, 
crimson-tipped flower " ? 

And from these remarks we may strike out a hint to be of 
service to us in our studies. We must read to think ; we must 
bring together our material with a view to making use of it. 



278 THE RA CE AND THE A THLE TE. 

Now there are books which crush thought by their heaviness, 
and others which dissipate it by their levity. There are books 
that chill and enfeeble instead of strengthening and stimulating. 
The wise student will turn aside from all such, and confine his 
attention to those books only which will help him in his great 
work of self-culture. The biographer of Fichte, comparing him 
with a dry-as-dust contemporary, remarks, that " all the truth 
written by the latter is not worth a tithe of the false which 
Fichte may have written. The one gives us a small number of 
known truths ; the other gives us perhaps one truth, but, in so 
doing, opens before us the prospect of an infinity of unknown 
truths." And it is just this quality which makes Fichte and 
writers like Fichte so valuable ; they teach us to think. The 
divine spark set free from the alter of their genius alights upon 
the inert dulness of our drowsy brain, and quickens it into 
wholesome activity. They send forth their breath to breathe 
upon the dead bones ; " and behold a shaking, and the bones 
come together, bone to his bone, . . . and they live." 

3. But now we must turn for a moment to that spiritual 
training which he who seeks success in life can by no means 
afford to neglect or forego. Mind and soul are so intimately 
connected, that what acts upon the one will react upon the 
other. The intellect and imagination cannot be healthy unless 
the soul be satisfied and at peace. No man can think gener- 
ously who does not live devoutly. But to live devoutly we 
must subject the soul to as rigid a discipline as that which we 
enforce upon mind or body. Goodness is no spontaneous 
growth ; like knowledge, it can be acquired only by assiduous 
wrestling. Purity, whether of body or soul, cannot become ours 
except by slow degrees, step by step, gradually and painfully. 



DEVOUT LIFE. 279 

The evil spirit can be driven away from us only by prayer and 
fasting. Says S. Francis of Sales : " The work of the soul's 
purification neither may nor can end save with life itself ; — do 
not then let us be disheartened by our imperfections, — our very 
perfection lies in diligently contending against them ; and it is 
impossible so to contend without seeing them, or to overcome 
without meeting them face to face. . . . David continually asks 
the Lord to strengthen his heart against cowardice and dis- 
couragement ; and it is our privilege in this war that we are 
certain to vanquish so long as we are willing to fight." 

It does not fall within the scope of these pages to enlarge 
upon the helps and hindrances to the devout life. The reader 
will do well to seek salutary counsel from such books as Jeremy 
Taylor's "Holy Living," Bishop Andrewes's "Prayers," Bishop 
Wilson's "Sacra Privata," the "Imitatio Christi," the "Confes- 
sions " of S. Augustine, and the " Pensees " of Blaise Pascal. 
All of these he may study earnestly and hopefully, and with 
large profit to his spiritual understanding. But especially 
would we recommend the "Imitatio," because, as George Eliot 
says, with equal truth and beauty, " it was written by a hand 
that waited for the heart's prompting ; — because it is the 
chronicle of a solitary, hidden anguish, struggle, trust, and 
triumph, not written on velvet cushions, to teach endurance to 
those who are treading with bleeding feet upon the stones. 
And it remains to all time the lasting sense of human creeds 
and human consolations, the voice of a brother, who, ages ago, 
felt and suffered and renounced — in the cloister perhaps, with 
serge gown and tonsured head, with much chanting, and long 
fasts, and with a fashion of speech different from ours — but 
under the same silent far-off heavens, and with the same pas- 



28o THE RACE AND THE ATHLETE. 

sionate desires, the same strivings, the same failures, the same 
weariness." Next to these primary manuals we would direct, 
the inquirer's attention to F. W. Robertson's and Maurice's 
"Sermons," or the "Prayers" and "Sermons" of the late 
George Dawson ; to some of Charles Kingsley's " Sermons " and 
his " Yeast ;" Dr. Newman's " Sermons ;" the " Memorials " of 
Sara Coleridge ; and some of the higher Christian biographies, 
such as those of Arnold, Patterson, Keble, Norman Macleod, 
and Thomas Erskine. All these are books well adapted to 
preserve the flavor of devout life in the inquirer's soul. 

A constant study of the Bible we take for granted. What- 
ever a man's vocation, this, and this alone, can give it true 
dignity or crown it with success. In the pages of the Evan- 
gelists a Perfect Life is set before us, by humble imitation of 
which, and by entire submission to the laws it inculcates, we 
may hope to realize some of the excellences of a gentle, 
Christian character. To shape our lives in accordance with 
the example given us by the Divine Master, that is the task we 
must accept and endeavor to discharge it we would run the 
race as conquerors. The nearer, we approach — and, alas ! 
how far off will be our nearest ! — the more assured will be our 
prospect of victory. It is a work to call forth the highest 
qualities of both mind and soul, and a work which all may 
joyfully undertake, for it carries in itself its own reward. How 
exalted the happiness, how serene the bliss, when we are able 
to bear the burden as if it were light as a spring blossom, 
and, seeing the crown shining above the cross, to bow the knee 
in love and gratitude, with the adoring cry, " My Lord and 
my God ! 

And lastly, we would urge upon the reader the duty and 



PRAYER. 28l 

the importance of Prayer. To us it seems the sheet-anchor of 
the tossed and troubled spirit, staying and steadying it when 
winds blow fiercest and waves rise highest. A prayerless life 
must surely be a vain, an unprofitable, and a wretched life. 
"No one," says F. W. Robertson, "will refuse to identify 
holiness with prayer. To say that a man is religious, is to say 
the same thing as to say he prays. For what is prayer ? To 
connect every thought with the thought of God ; to look on 
everything as His will and His appointment ; to submit every 
thought, wish, and resolve to Him ; to feel His presence so 
that it shall restrain us even in our wildest joy. That is prayer. 
And what we are now, surely we are by prayer. If we have 
attained any measure of goodness, if we have resisted tempta- 
tions, if we have any self-command, or if we live with aspira- 
tions and desires beyond the common, we shall not hesitate to 
ascribe them all to prayer." Can any be so blind, so mad, so 
foolish as to enter upon the race of life without seeking the 
support that comes from communion with the Father ? It is 
the staff of the feeble, the medicine of the sick, the guide of 
the strong, the consolation of the sorrowful. It lifts the soul 
up to the throne of Eternal love, and binds it there in golden 
bonds that never gall or annoy. It enables us to submit our 
will unrepiningly to the Divine will, and fills us with an exqui- 
site consciousness of the Divine sympathy. Into our prayers 
we can convey those thoughts and aspirations and desires, 
those timid fears and heart-achings, for which we can find no 
other channel of expression. We have nothing to say here in 
reply to semi- philosophical refutations of prayer as a dynamic 
force. Enough for us to insist upon it as a spiritual power. 
We are very sure that the heart without prayer is like a ship 



282 THE RA CE AND THE A THLE TE. 

without a rudder, which the currents of passion will carry 
against the pitiless rocks. No one who has not tried can tell 
what a security a devout ejaculation will prove against tempta- 
tion, or how singular a solace a few words of prayer will afford 
in the time of doubt and disappointment. Alas for prayerless 
men ! — 

" For what are ' they ' better than sheep and goats 
That nourish a blind life within the brain, 
If, knowing God, they lift not hearts of prayer 
Both for themselves and those who call them friend ? 
For so the whole round earth is every way 
Bound by gold chains about the feet of God." 

Many great and all good men have been prayerful men, 
seeking with humility of spirit an intimate communion with 
their Divine Master. The fiery soul of Luther, the stern heart 
of Calvin, the rigid will of Knox, — these were alike subdued 
and sanctified by prayer. Brave men like Collingwood have 
found in it the inspiration of the truest courage. It has 
brought a wonderful calmness of endurence to poets like Mil- 
ton and statesmen like Cromwell. It supported Latimer and 
Hooper as they suffered at the stake. It cheered the gallant 
heart of Havelock as he rode into battle. It sanctified the 
genius of Fra Angelico as he breathed life into the painted 
canvas. There can be no successful work without prayer, 
which is its crown and consecration ; " prayer," as Kingsley 
says, " not that God's will may be altered, but that it may be 
done ; that we may be kept out of all evil and delivered from 
all temptation which may prevent our doing it ; that we may 
have the aprov i-rtioiaiov given to us in body, soul, spirit, and 
circumstance, which will just enable us to do it and no more ; 
that the name of Him to whom we pray may be hallowed, felt 
to be as noble and sacred as it is, and acted on accordingly." 



PR A YER. 283 

Prayer, offered up in this humble trustful spirit, may not bring 
down God to us, but it will raise us up to God. 

" Prayer," says S. Francis, "opens the understanding to the 
brightness of Divine light, and the will to the warmth of 
heavenly love ; nothing can so effectually purify the mind 
from its many ignorances, or the will from its perverse affec- 
tions. It is as a healing water which causes the roots of our 
good desires to send forth fresh shoots, which washes away 
the soul's imperfections, and allays the thirst of passion." 

Bishop Andrewes speaks of the uses of prayer as threefold. 
" There is the use of necessity, for God hath left prayer to be our 
city of refuge, to the end that where all means fail we should 
fly unto God by prayer. There is the use of duty, for prayer 
is compared with 'incense,' which giveth a sweet smell to all 
our works, words, and thoughts, which otherwise would be 
offensive to the majesty of God. Thirdly, there is the use of 
dignity, when a man doth abstract himself from the earth, and 
by often prayer doth grow into acquaintance and familiarity 
with God." 




CHAPTER VIII. 

SELF-HELP. 

" Sacrifice and self-devotion hallow earth and fill the skies, 
And the meanest life is sacred whence the highest may arise." 

— Lord Houghton. 

" You will be invincible if you engage in no strife where you are not sure 
that it is in your power to conquer." — Epictetus, "Enchiridion." 

" Blessed is he who hath not trod the ways 
Of secular delights, nor learned the lore 
Which loftier minds are studious to abhor : 
Blessed is he who hath not sought the praise 
That perishes, the rapture that betrays." 

— Aubrey de Vere. 

" Self-schooled, self-scanned, self-honored, self -serene." 

Matthew Arnold. 

" Quit yourselves like men." — I Samuel iv. 9. 

" Fungar vice istis, acutum 
Reddere quae furum valet, exsors ipsa secundi." 

— Horace. 

" Who breaks his birth's invidious bar, 

And grasps the skirts of happy chance, 
And breasts the blows of circumstance, 
And grapples with his evil star. " 

— Tennyson. 



M 



CHAPTER VIII. 

SELF-HELP. 

R. SMILES, in his well-known volume, has covered the 
ground indicated by the title given to this chapter, and 
we have no intention of endeavoring to reap where an abundant 
harvest has already been gathered by so laborious and able a 
hand. Yet from a book which purports to set before its read- 
ers the Secret of Success, and to lead them so to live this life 
as to make the best of it, it would be impossible to omit all 
reference to the important subject of Self-Help. So many 
lives have been wrecked' by the fatal policy of waiting upon 
others ! So many fortunes lie shattered in the mire because 
men call upon Jupiter for assistance instead of putting their 
own shoulders to the wheel ! No "good luck," as the world 
calls it, ever comes to the young man who sits by the wayside, 
wringing his hands, and looking for it to drop from heaven. 
The gods long ago ceased to send down golden images of 
Pallas to the help of suffering humanity. No doubt many are 
still born in the purple, nursed in the lap of luxury, and bred 
up in the arms of wealth ; but even they, if they would be " true 
men," must learn to trust to their own strength. We are what 
we choose to be The great law of life is a commonplace : man 



288 f SELF-HELP. 

is his own star ; he makes or mars himself. Shelley once said 
that the Almighty had given men arms long enough to reach 
the skies, if they would only put them out. Men do not want 
to reach the skies, would not be the better for reaching them ; 
but they ought to put out their arms. It is useless to grasp at 
the Unattainable, but it is a good thing to employ actively the 
vis animi that is in us, and not to depend upon that of others. 
The lesson of self-help is the first that the young adventurer 
should learn, and take to heart. We do not mean that he is to 
despise the counsel or refuse the sympathy of friends, if such 
be offered, but he is not to expect it. He is to enter the battle 
determined " to fight for his own hand," though willing enough 
to stand shoulder to shoulder with loyal comrades, or to obey 
the orders of a competent general, if such should prove to be 
his duty. The cheering words, " Heaven helps those who help 
themselves," must prove the guiding maxim of his career. 

It has been said that a man engages in the struggle of life 
with a tacit understanding with himself that he is to rise. We 
do not think that the majority of men entertain so hopeful a 
resolution ; it is one that will be welcome only to brave hearts 
and sound minds. However this may be, the rise must be step 
by step. Obstacles must be cleared out of the way, difficulties 
must be overcome. Probably at the outset neither you nor I 
have any distinct aim. " It is only in books that the young 
man resolves from the first dawning of ambition to become 
owner of such an estate or bishop of such a see. But he means 
to get on y and devotes all his powers to that end. He fixes his 
thoughts beyond immediate self-indulgence, chooses his friends 
as they will help the main designs, falls in love on the same 
principle, and, habitually deferring to a vague but glowing 



PATRONAGE. 289 

future, learns to work towards it, and for its sake to be self- 
denying and long-sighted. His instincts quicken ; he puts 
forth feelers which men who take their pleasure from hand to 
mouth have no use for ; he lives in habitual caution, with an 
eye always to the main chance. Thus he refines and enhances 
that natural discretion which doubles the weight and value of 
every other gift, and yet keeps them on an unobtrusive level, 
being itself the most notable quality, till he is universally pro- 
nounced the man made to get on by people who do not know 
that it is a steady will that has made and kept him what he is." 
Here, in a few words, lies the whole philosophy of self-help. 

The fact is, that the man who would achieve even a respect- 
able measure of prosperity, or do his life-work with a moderate 
degree of honesty, must rely upon himself and not upon others. 
Favoritism may place a marshal's baton in the hand of an in- 
competent man, but it cannot ensure him against defeat. The 
emperor, says St. Gregory the Great, can make an ape be 
called a lion, but he cannot make him become one. The 
Emperor Sigismund replied to a courtier who begged that he 
would ennoble him, " I can give you privileges and fiefs, but I 
cannot make you noble." No : it is in ourselves that we are 
thus and thus. Self-help is the condition of healthful progress. 
Many men have owed their success in life to their utter friend- 
lessness. Had " influence " procured for Lord Tenterden, 
when a singer in Canterbury Cathedral, the chorister's place he 
coveted, he would never have risen to the " curule chair." 
Be it observed that we are here speaking of " friends " in the 
sense of " patrons." True friendship is the bliss of life, but 
patronage is its misery. 

The mention of Lord Tenterden reminds us that his career 



29O SELF-HELP. 

supplies a text from which it is possible to preach a sermon of 
some significance. His father kept a barber's shop opposite 
the grand west front of Canterbury Cathedral. Mr. Abbott is 
described as a tall, upright, old-fashioned man, with a thick 
pigtail, whose only ambition was to shave his customers at a 
penny, and to cut their hair at twopence a head. He had a 
son named Charles, " a decent, grave, pensive-looking youth." 
who was educated for a small sum at the King's School, and 
attracted the notice of his master by his conduct and clever- 
ness, and his skilfulness in composing Latin verses. When he 
was fourteen his parents thought he was old enough to earn his 
own living, and put him forward as a candidate for a chorister's 
place which was then vacant. The hairdresser was satisfied 
that his long connection with the cathedral authorities would 
secure this prize for his son, but the Dean and Chapter were 
of opinion that young Abbott's voice was husky, and decided 
in favor of a more melodious competitor. Many years after- 
wards the Lord Chief Justice of England, while "going circuit " 
with another judge, visited St. Augustine's ancient city, and 
entering the cathedral, pointed to a singing-man in the choir. 
" Behold, brother Richardson," he exclaimed," the only human 
being I ever envied. When at school in this town, we were 
candidates together for a chorister's place ; he obtained it ; and 
if I had gained my wish, he might have been accompanying 
you as Chief Justice, and pointing me out as his old school- 
fellow the singing-man." In this conclusion Lord Tenterden, 
the barber's son, was probably wrong ; the singing-man may 
not have possessed the innate capacity that would ever have 
made him other than one of the unknown multitude. 

For three years after his disappointment Charles Abbott 



CHARLES ABBO TT. 29 1 

continued at school, his diligent application raising him to the 
captainship. Then it seemed good to his father that since he 
could not be a " singing-man " he should become a barber, and 
shave the chins and clip the hair of Canterbury citizens, after 
the paternal example. The head-master of the school inter- 
fered. Young Abbott was worthy of something better ; and 
the head-master, with the aid of the trustees of the school and 
some leading townsmen, raised a small sum of money to enable 
him to go to college. This was Abbott's opportunity ; and he 
had the strength and the will to avail himself of it. Entering 
Corpus Christi College at Oxford, he won a classical scholar- 
ship. Thereupon he wrote to a young friend : — " But a little 
while past to be a scholar of Corpus was the height of my am- 
bition ; that summit is, thank Heaven, gained, when another 
and another appears still in view. In a word, I shall not rest 
easy till I have ascended the rostrum in the theatre," — in other 
words, until he had gained the Chancellor's medal, and recited 
a prize composition from the rostrum of the Sheldonian. He 
competed for the prize Latin poem " Calpe Obsessa," on the 
recent successful defence of Gibraltar by General Elliot and 
his gallant comrades. The prize fell to William Lisle Bowles, 
afterwards a poet of some celebrity, but the examiners com- 
mended Abbott's effort as second best. In the following year, 
on the subject of balloon voyages, " Globus Aerosticus," 
Abbott's muse was more propitious. He won the prize, and 
fulfilled his ambition by reciting it in the Sheldonian Theatre. 
Afterwards he gained the Chancellor's medal for an essay on 
" The Use and Abuse of Satire." It will thus be seen that 
Abbott helped himself to good purpose and with unquenchable 
ardor. 



292 SELF-HELP. 

In due time he took his degree, obtained a fellowship, and 
was appointed junior tutor. Success had not spoiled him, and 
he lived with the strictest economy in order to contribute to the 
support of his mother, who had been left a widow. He was 
meditating the important step of taking holy orders, when he 
was invited to act as tutor to the son of Mr. Justice Buller, one 
of the most eminent of the many eminent men who have 
adorned the judicial bench of England. The judge had a keen 
eye for men of ability, and detecting the logical power of 
Abbott's intellect, advised him to embrace the legal profession, 
as better suited to him than the Church. Abbott acted on the 
advice, and articled himself for a year to a special pleader of 
the name of Wood. At the end of the year Wood told him 
that he had learned all he had to teach. With characteristic 
independence, Abbott then determined to practise as a special 
pleader below the bar until he saw his way more clearly ; and 
hiring chambers in Brick Court, with a small boy as clerk at ten 
shillings a week, he sat down to wait for clients. It was under- 
stood before long that clients could safely resort to him ; that 
his advice was always sound ; and his faculty for despatching 
business almost unrivalled. In 1795 he was called to the bar, 
and thenceforward his progress was rapid. He had previously 
taken to himself a wife. The father of the lady he loved, a 
country squire, called upon him at his chambers and inquired 
how, when married, he proposed to support a household. " By 
the books in this room," he answered, " and two pupils in the 
next." The marriage proved an exceedingly happy one ; and 
on its fifth anniversary the special pleader addressed to his 
"placens uxor " the following verses, which show that though a 
tender husband he was but an indifferent poet : — 



MR. ABBOTT. 293 

" In the noise of the bar and crowds of the hall, 
Though destined still longer to move, 
Let my thoughts wander home, and my memory recall 
The dear pleasures of beauty and love. 

" The soft looks of my girl, the sweet voice of my boy, 
Their antics, their hobbies, their sports ; 
How the houses he builds her quick fingers destroy, 
And with kisses his pardon she courts. 

" With eyes full of tenderness, pleasure, and pride, 
The fond mother sits watching their play, 
Or turns, if I look not, my dulness to chide, 
And invites me, like them, to be gay. 

" She invites to be gay, and I yield to her voice, 
And my toils and my sorrows forget ; 
In her beauty, her sweetness, her kindness rejoice, 
And hallow the day that we met. 

14 Full bright were her charms in the bloom of her life, 
When I walked down the church by her side, 
And, five years passed over, I now find the wife 
More loving and fair than the bride." 

In 1816 Mr. Abbott accepted a judgeship of the Common 
Pleas, and afterwards a judgeship of the King's Bench, and, as 
a matter of course, he was knighted. Two years more, and, on 
the retirement of Lord Ellenborough, he became Lord Chief 
Justice of England, in which illustrious position he acquired a 
great and well-deserved reputation. Indeed, Lord Campbell 
seems to think that it was the true " golden age " for lawyers 
and suitors when Lord Chief Justice Abbott presided over that 
venerable court. " Every point made by counsel was then 
understood in a moment ; the application of every authority 
was understood at a glance ; the counsel saw when he might 
sit down, his case being safe, and when he might sit down, all 
chance of success for his client being at an end. During that 
golden age law and reason prevailed. The result was con- 
fidently anticipated by the knowing before the argument began, 



294 SELF-HELP. 

and the judgment was approved of by all who heard it pro- 
nounced, including the vanquished party. Before such a 
tribunal the advocate becomes dearer to himself by preserving 
his own esteem. I do not believe that so much important 
business was ever done so rapidly and so well before any other 
court that ever sat in any age or country. The piincipal merit 
is no doubt due to Abbott, and no one could have played his 
part so well." 

Abbott's chief defect was a sensitive and irritable temper. 
But he was aware of his weakness, and was on his guard against 
it. Lord Campbell says it was a study to observe how he 
mastered the rebellious part of his nature, to watch this battle, 
or rather victory, for the conflict was too successful to be ap- 
parent on many occasions. It was an edifying sight to see 
him, when his temper had been visibly affected during a trial, 
addressing himself to the points of the cause with a calmness as 
perfect and an indifference as complete as that of a mathema- 
tician pursuing the investigation of an abstract truth. 

In 1827 the barber's son was raised to the peerage by the 
title of Baron Tenterden, a title suggested to him by the 
Kentish associations of his early years. His promotion was 
welcomed by all as a just testimony to his singular merits as a 
lawyer, a judge, and a Christian gentleman. Though his health 
was now failing, he continued to discharge his judicial duties 
with his customary activity. He felt no call to rest, and literally 
died in harness. An important cause came before him, and he 
presided at its hearing for two days. On the evening of the 
second day he went home ill. The disease proved to be fever, 
and fever of so severe a type that medical science could not 
arrest its progress. With the words, " And now, gentlemen of 



THE WAY WE HAVE WROUGHT. 295 

the jury, you will consider of your verdict," on his lips, he 
passed away. He was seventy years of age at the time of his 
death, having been born in 1762. 

Lord Tenterden's career furnishes a very emphatic argument 
in favor of self-help. He earned his success by the most 
rigorous adherence to the law of duty, and the most sedulous 
cultivation of the faculties which God had given him. He did 
not hang upon the skirts of fortune, trusting to the "influence " 
of friends, but made his way by his own incessant effort. It is 
true enough that every barber's boy, however self-helpful or 
laborious, cannot become Lord Chief Justice of England, but 
the lesson is not the less applicable. He can be and do some- 
thing in his own sphere, however limited. He can hew wood 
and draw water, and he can do this as well as it can be done, 
instead of in a perfunctory and careless fashion. " It is no 
man's business," says an acute thinker, " whether he has genius' 
or not ; work he must, whatever he is, but quietly and steadily, 
and the natural and unforced results of such work will be 
always the things that God meant him to do, and will be his 
best. If he be a great man, they will be great things ; if he be 
a small man, small things ; but always, if thus peacefully done, 
good and right ; always, if restlessly and ambitiously done, 
false, hollow, and despicable." God will judge us not accord- 
ing to our work, but according to the way in which we have 
wrought. He does not ask of us the impossible, but He wills 
that we should do our best with that which we find and know 
to be possible. And a sweet peace and serene enjoyment will 
surely possess the soul of him who works, and feels he works, 
and works with his own hand. 

The name of W. H. Smith is familiar enough to English 



296 SELF-HELP. 

readers and English railway travellers, as that of the head of the 
remarkable newspaper agency and bookselling firm which has 
established at almost every railway station in Great Britain 
depots for the sale of books and " current literature," so that 
they who run may read. The extensive system thus maintained 
for the convenience of the travelling public might justly be ad j 
duced as a striking example of the value of organization. The 
originator, William Henry Smith, belonged to that class of 
" self-made men " so happily numerous in England. He was 
born on the 7th of July, 1792. His education was not of a 
very complete character, for a change in the circumstances of 
his family compelled him, while still young, to take charge of a 
small newspaper business in a West End street. He felt him- 
self fitted for higher work, but what he had to do he resolved 
to do as well as it could be done. In this he so far succeeded 
that he was able to remove to a larger shop in the Strand, and 
to the sale of newspapers to add that of stationery. Those 
were the " dark days " before railways and telegraphs — when 
" news " filtered slowly through the country, and a rural denizen 
at only a hundred miles from London waited days for the trans- 
mission of the intelligence of a Waterloo victory. The London 
mails left London by coach at night, and the " Times " or 
"Morning Chronicle " of Monday morning did not reach Exeter 
or Liverpool until Wednesday evening. Mr. W. H. Smith had 
in him the genius of a great reformer, and he devised the simple 
but highly successful expedient of forwarding the newspapers 
as express parcels by the coaches which left London in the 
morning ; and as these coaches started generally before the 
papers were " out," he organized relays of stout, swift horses to 
take up the papers when issued, speed in swift pursuit of the 



MR. W. H SMITH. 297 

mail-coaches, and overtake them when and where they could. 
The result was a gain of twenty-four hours ; and — something 
more, for there can be no doubt that the speedy diffusion of 
news quickens the national intelligence, and awakens and 
cherishes a lively interest in public affairs. It acts, indeed, as 
an educational agency ; and Mr. W. H. Smith may fairly be 
regarded as a great public benefactor from the impetus he un- 
questionably communicated to political life and movement. 
At first he met with no adequate reward, for the cost of the 
enterprise exceeded the returns ; but he persevered, having 
faith in himself and his idea, and ultimately found himself in pos- 
session of the most extensive newspaper business in England. 

Many men, after initiating a reform, stand still, and leave its 
development lo others, at if their energies had been exhausted 
by the work of inception. This was not the case with Mr. W. 
H. Smith. When the mail-coach found a rival in the iron 
horse, he at once recognized, and availed himself of, the superior 
advantages thus offered for the expeditious transit of his news- 
papers. And in 1848 he made another forward movement. 
He purchased from the London and North-Western Railway 
the exclusive right of selling books and newspapers at the 
various stations along its line : and the public soon found them- 
selves able to procure at " Smith & Son's bookstalls " the best 
books of the day, with which to beguile a long journey or an 
hour of waiting. The conception and effective working out of 
this idea could be possible only to a man of great force of 
character and organizing ability, and one is almost inclined to 
regret that such force of character and organizing ability were 
not exercised in a higher sphere. On the other hand, we must 
again admit that it has proved in every respect a public gain, 



298 SELF-HELP. 

and contributed largely to stimulate a love of reading, and to 
popularize the productions of writers of the highest merit. 

Mr. W. H. Smith, senior, died in 1855. His son had for 
some years acted as his partner, and he now succeeded to the 
entire charge of a business with enormous ramifications. It 
was soon seen that he inherited the administrative capacity and 
intellectual solidity of his father ; and to him came the oppor- 
tunity, which his father never had, of employing them more 
directly and expressly for the public benefit. He was returned 
to Parliament by the citizens of Westminster in opposition to 
the late John Stuart Mill. There he did not fail to acquire 
respect and attention by the calm good sense of his speeches, 
and his thorough knowledge of commercial subjects ; and he 
quickly rose to so influential a position, that on the formation 
of the Disraeli Administration he was intrusted with the impor- 
tant duties of Financial Secretary to the Treasury. His success 
in this office led to his appointment, in 1876, as First Lord of 
the Admiralty ; and it may safely be asserted that in such an 
onerous and delicate position, which is always open to a storm 
of criticism, he has done nothing to forfeit the confidence of 
the public. 

His career, like that of his father, teaches us what may be 
accomplished by men of strong, straightforward character, con- 
tent to do the best they can with whatever seems to be the 
immediate work, but always ready to seize and profit by an op- 
portunity for doing something better. Sound common sense 
and a quick perception of the public wants were the basis on 
which the Smiths built up the immense fabric of their business. 
A similar sturdiness of character guided George Bidder, the 
engineer, once depreciatingly nicknamed " the Calculating Boy," 



GEORGE BIDDER. 299 

into the highway of success — a highway bristling with thistles 
in its earlier portion, but afterwards blooming with 

" Glossy purples, which outredden 
All voluptuous garden-roses." 

George Bidder was the son of a stone-mason in the pretty 
Devonshire village of Moreton Hampstead. Endowed with an 
intuitive faculty of calculation, a kind of instinct for determin- 
ing the properties of numbers, he " learned to count " before 
he could distinguish one printed or written figure from another ; 
and before he had heard of the " rule of multiplication," which 
to most boys is, as the old school rhyme declares it to be, 
"vexation," he taught himself the practice of it by converting 
a bag of shot into a multiplication table up to ten times ten. 
The shot he disposed in little squares ; and on making a square 
of eight shot on each side attained to a conviction of the fact 
that 8 x 4=32. At the time that he had come to this dis- 
covery he formed an acquaintance with the village blacksmith, 
who allowed him free access to his forge, and he often sat 
o' nights in the Rembrandtish gloom listening to the village 
gossips as they told their wild legends of Dartmoor or related 
their bucolic experiences. As he grew older and stronger, he 
was raised to the dignity of blowing the bellows. On one 
occasion somebody chanced to hesitate in a little attempt at 
calculation ; the boy immediately supplied the correct answer. 
Knowing something of the Devonshire peasantry, we can well 
imagine the mingled awe and admiration with which the black- 
smith and his friends observed this spontaneous outburst of 
arithmetical genius ! The cleverest among them proceeded to 
ask the boy a few questions, which he answered with facility ; 
and they continued to test him up to two places of figures. We 



300 SELF-HELP. 

* 
are disposed to think that beyond this limit nobody in Moreton 

Hampstead, forty years ago, except the "parson," the doctor, 
and the lawyer (if such there were), could possibly have ad- 
vanced. George Bidder's reputation soon spread over all the 
country round ; and when he discovered that reputation meant 
pence and even shillings, he did his utmost to maintain it by 
incessant practice, until from two places of figures, he advanced 
to four, five, and six ; and, on one occasion, to twelve places. 
All this was done by a boy of twelve or thirteen years of age, 
who had received no better education than a Devonshire village 
school afforded at the beginning of the present century. 

But had George Bidder done nothing more, his name would 
not have found a place in these pages. His calculating faculty, 
astonishing enough in itself, would have been barren of useful 
results. A recent writer in the " Spectator " justly remarks that 
calculating boys are rather obsolete prodigies, and that the 
schoolmaster of to-day has no ambition to foster them. After 
all, they are less wonderful than Babbage's calculating machine. 
The present generation cares nothing for the feats of memory 
at which our fathers held up the hands of amazement ; for 
feats which were once supposed to indicate the possession of 
intellectual powers of almost incredible and certainly unprece- 
dented vigor. One of these calculating boys, Zerah Colburn, 
in his autobiography, tells a story of a notorious Freethinker, 
who, after witnessing his arithmetical marvels, went home greatly 
disturbed, passed a sleepless night, and was led to abandon 
infidel opinions. " And this," says the " Spectator," " was only 
one illustration of the vague feeling of awe and open-mouthed 
wonder which his performances excited. People came to con- 
sult him about stolen spoons ; and he himself evidently thought 



CALCULA TING BO YS. 30 1 

that there was something decidedly uncanny, something super- 
natural about his gift. And no doubt his intuitive mastery 
over figures, according to perfectly credible accounts, was truly 
marvellous. On one occasion, Colburn was asked to name the 
square of 999,999, which he stated to be 999,998,008,001. He 
multiplied this by 49, and the product by the same number, 
and the total result he then multiplied by 25. He raised the 
figure 8 to the sixteenth power with ease." Bidder, in some 
respects, was even more remarkable ; his facility in abstruse 
calculations surprised Colburn himself. In both boys the cal- 
culating faculty was developed very early. At three years of 
age, George Bidder answered a wonderful question, which it 
would puzzle many of us to solve with pen and paper, about the 
nails in a horse's four shoes. At eight, though utterly ignorant 
of the theory of arithmetic, he could answer almost instanta- 
neously how many farthings there were in ^868,424,121. 

Calculating boys, however, such as Zerah Colburn and 
Jedediah Buxton, have usually grown into men of mediocre 
ability. Colburn, for, instance, was placed by a patron in 
Westminster School, where he quite failed when brought into 
competition with boys of his own age. This faculty of instan- 
taneous calculation, it is evident, is something wholly distinct 
from a true aptitude for mathematics. " None of the prodigies 
whom we have named grew into eminent mathematicians, or 
disclosed any high talents for mathematical science. We could 
tiention, it is true, several of the latter — Euler and Wallis, for 
instance — who were rapid and expert calculators, but none of 
them exhibited precocious aptitude for ciphering. The youth- 
ful Pascal, who discovered for himself (as already stated) the 
demonstration of the thirty-second proposition of the First 



302 SELF-HELP. 

Book of Euclid, or Newton, who, as a boy, invented cleverly 
constructed windmills, belongs to another species from the lads 
who get coppers by multiplying six figures by six figures, or 
calculating the number of barleycorns which will extend between 
London and Paris." 

George Bidder, however, was something more than a calcu- 
lating boy. He possessed a surprising force of character, which 
prevented him from being spoiled by the applause lavished on 
his arithmetical feats, and urged him forward to a position of 
honor and usefulness. Withdrawn, through the kindness of a 
friend, from the influence of public notoriety, he was sent to the 
Edinburgh University, where he applied himself to his studies 
with laudable assiduity. Adopting the profession of a civil 
engineer, he obtained employment under Mr. Henry Robertson 
Palmer, founder of the Institute of Civil Engineers, and soon, 
by his sagacity and perseverance, worked himself to the front. 
His connection with George Stephenson proved of equal ad- 
vantage to both ; and in the great Parliamentary contests which 
marked the expansion of the railway system in Great Britain 
he bore a distinguished part. His cool-headedness, his perspi- 
cacity, his solid shrewdness, in a word, his force of character, 
gained him a reputation as " the best witness who ever entered 
a committee-room." He always knew his subject even to the 
minutest details, and could not therefore be taken unawares. 
There was no joint or chink in his armor to be detected by the 
keenest eye. Mr. Bidder rose to a very eminent place in his 
profession, as was shown by his election to the presidentship 
of the Institute of Civil Engineers in 1 860-61. 

Says Matthew Arnold : — 



MA TTHE W ARNOLD. 303 

" And there are some whom a thirst, 
Ardent, unquenchable, fires 
Not with the crowd to be spent — 
Not without aim to go round 
In an eddy of purposeless dust, 
Effort unmeaning and vain. 
Ah, yes ! some of us strive 
Not without action to die 
Fruitless, but something to snatch 
From dull oblivion, nor all 
Glut the devouring grave ! " 

This, indeed, is the thought and purpose of the higher class 
of minds, of those among us who feel that it is a noble and 
heroic thing to sow the seed of which future generations shall 
gather the harves f : — 

We, we have chosen our path — 
Path to a clear-purposed goal, — 
Path of advance ! — but it leads 
A long, steep journey, through sunk 
Gorges, o'er mountains in snow ! 
Cheerful, with friends, we set forth — 
Then, on the height, comes the storm ! 
With frowning foreheads, with lips 
Sternly compressed, we strain on, 
On — and at nightfall, at last, 
Come to the end of our way." 

After the stress of the storm, a voiceless calm ; after the fury 
of the battle, serene peace ; after the anguish of the struggle, 
the joy of victory. Thus, to the ardent endeavor and the strong 
will, the way is opened up at last. In those stirring records of 
the pursuit of knowledge under difficulties, in those romantic 
stories of great acquisitions in art or science won by intense 
labor and ardor of soul, what an encouragement throbs and 
beats for the young spirit that is about to cross the threshold ! 
It seems as if we had but to will and we must succeed. Of 
course there will be repulses for us as for those who have gone 
before us ; we must meet with difficulties and wounds and sor- 
rows as they did ; but what matter ? They conquered, and we 



304 SELF-HELP. 

shall conquer too. Mark in this the potency of the influence 
of a well-lived life. It acts upon so many as an inspiration, 
stirs up so many to the imitation of noble things and the 
achievement of noble deeds. 

After glancing through a biographical dictionary, one is 
tempted to believe that everything is possible to him who be- 
lieves in its possibility. Not even poverty — and the aspiring 
spirit knows no heavier chain — can drag him down to earth. 
Who has not felt the might of a brave, resolute earnestness 
when reading the life of Thomas Edward, the Scottish naturalist ? 
Not a man of genius, not even a man of more than average in- 
telligence, yet a man whose force of character and steadfastness 
of purpose commands our respect. By trade a shoemaker, he 
had a strong passion for the study of natural history, which 
he could gratify only in the few hours snatched from the 
monotony of his daily labor. In many men circumstanced as 
Edward was, friendless, almost penniless, working long hours 
for little wages, the love of Nature, even if it had once flourished, 
would have quickly died out, like a lamp in an unwholesome 
atmosphere ; but in Edward it was fed and cherished by his 
invincible determination. It is said of him that whatever ob- 
ject in natural history he desired to possess, he never rested 
until he obtained it, if that were at all possible. Sometimes he 
lost for a while the object of which he was in quest, because he 
wished to study its traits and habits. For this purpose he 
would observe long and carefully before taking possession of it. 
And thus he accumulated a mass of information in natural his- 
tory, such as the Book of Nature could alone supply. 

The fervor and resolution with which he set about the for- 
mation of a natural history museum move us to admiration. 



THOMA S ED WARD. 30 5 

When he began he was twenty-four years old. He had an old 
gun which had cost only 4s. 6d., and was so rickety that the 
barrel had to be tied to the stock with a piece of thick twine. 
He carried his powder in a horn, and measured out his charges 
with the bowl of a tobacco-pipe. A brown paper bag held his 
shot ; and his equipment was completed by a few small insect- 
bottles, some boxes for containing moths and butterflies, and 
a botanical book for holding specimens of plants. 

As Edward did not put aside his shoemaker's awl and needle 
until nine at night, all his researches had to be made after that 
hour. And he had to resume work at six in the morning, be- 
cause he could not afford to abridge the hours given up to his 
bread-winning occupation. He was compelled to husband 
carefully both his time and money, having little to spare of 
either. On returning home from the workshop at night, he 
would equip himself with his insect boxes and bottles, his 
botanical book and his gun, and set out, carrying his frugal 
supper in his hand or stowed away in his pocket. His thirst 
he slaked at the nearest spring, 

" So long as it was light, he scoured the country, looking for 
moths, or beetles, or plants, or birds, or any living thing that 
came in his way. When it became so dark that he could no 
longer observe, he dropped down by the side of a bank, or a 
bush, or a tree, whichever came handiest, and there he dozed 
or slept till the light returned. Then he got up, and again be- 
gan his observations, which he continued until the time 
arrived when he had to return to his daily labor. * * * He 
went out on fine starlit nights, and moonlight nights, and in 
cold and drizzling nights. Weather never daunted him. When 
it rained, he would look out for a hole in a bank, and thrust 



306 SELF-HELP. 

himself into it, feet foremost. He kept his head and his gun 
out, watching and waiting for any casualties that might happen. 
* * * The coldest places in which Edward slept at night 
were among the rocks by the seaside, on the shingle, or on the 
sea-braes along the coast. When exposed to the east wind, 
these sleeping-places were perishingly cold. When he went in- 
land he could obtain better shelter. In summer time especially 
he would lie down on the grass and sleep soundly, with the 
lock of his gun for his pillow and the canopy of heaven for his 
blanket. His ear was always open for the sounds of Nature, 
and when the lark was carolling his early hymn of praise, long 
before the sun had risen, Edward would rise and watch for 
daybreak — 

' When from the naked top 
Of some bold headland he beheld the sun 
Rise up and bathe the world in light."' 

A will so determined, and such adamantine force of character 
when brought to bear on the study of natural history, could 
hardly fail to make their owner a thorough and sucessfuL 
naturalist. Pouvoir c'est vouloir. 

We may take yet another example from the records of the 
book trade. In the United States and elsewhere the name of 
George W. Childs is familiar to the reading public. He now 
occupies an eminent position as the proprietor of the " Public 
Ledger," one of the most influential and respectable of 
American journals. Mr. Childs is one of those men who seem 
born to figure in the pages of books upon " Self-Help " and 
" Getting On." The secret of his success is that which has 
been the secret of the success of so many self-made notabilities, 
— not great intellectual power, or literary gifts, or rare endow- 



GEORGE W. CHILDS. 307 

ments, so much as force of character, independence of spirit, 
diligence, and integrity. It is nearly thirty-five years ago that 
he set out from Baltimore, his birthplace, to seek his fortune in 
Philadelphia, resolute with the moral courage of a strong and 
active mind to search for it " in the way best calculated to find 
it, and to leave nothing undone on his part to deserve it." Yet 
it must have appeared a very long way off, even to a boy's 
imagination ; for this lad of fifteen years old was absolutely 
friendless, and as completely without a patron as Richard 
Whittington when, pausing on the summit of Highgate Hill, he 
heard those mythic bells which called him back to a career of 
honor and prosperity. He knew, however, that an idle hand 
grasps nothing, not even an opportunity ; and soon after his ar- 
rival he gladly engaged himself as shopboy to a respectable 
bookseller. As soon as he had obtained a knowledge of the 
business, and saved up a small store of dollars, he boldly 
started on his own account, and this with so much success that, 
in his twentieth year, he received an offer, which he accepted, 
of a partnership in the publishing firm of Peterson & Co. As 
" Childs & Peterson " the new firm rose rapidly into popularity. 
The senior partner's energy, quick perception, sound judgment, 
and prudent enterprise raised it out of the ruck of competition, 
and he made " a hit " by the publication of Dr. Kane's " Arctic 
Explorations." In i860 or 1861 Mr. Childs took sole charge 
of the business, and about four years later he became proprietor 
of the " Public Ledger." The welfare of those employed in 
the " Ledger " office is a matter of special solicitude to Mr. 
Childs, and there are various philanthropic schemes in operation 
for their benefit. In 1870 his income was publicly estimated, 
with the customary frankness of Americans in these matters, at 



308 SELF-HELP 

160,000 dollars a year — not an unsatisfactory result of five and 
twenty years labor. But Mr. Childs had also gained the respect . 
and esteem due to unblemished character and business activity ; 
while, by his liberality and energetic action, he had contributed 
to the extension of American literature. Amongst other things, 
we are indebted to his enterprise for the production of that 
great work, Allibone's " Critical Dictionary of English Litera- 
ture and British and American Authors." The friendless boy 
of fifteen had every reason to feel that his life-work was a very 
satisfactory commentary on the significant text of " Self-Help." 
The London City-world has not yet put out of mind the 
memory of George Moore, the warehouseman of Bow Church- 
yard. He was not a man of genius ; he left behind him no 
great monumental labor; his was not the eloquence that 
sways the hearts of thousands ; he was simply a merchant and 
philanthropist of the good old-fashioned type ; yet his biography 
is not without a certain genuine interest. Born at Mendsgate, 
Cumberland, in April, 1806, he was sent to the parish school 
at the age of eight. There he learned very little, for he was 
fonder of bird-nesting and other pastimes than of learning les- 
sons. In the harvest holidays he hired himself out to the 
neighboring farmers in order to earn some pocket-money. He 
started at sixpence a day, and by the time that he was ten 
years old got eighteenpence a day. At the age of twelve, being 
a stout, stalwart boy, he " carried his rig " with the men, 
shearing with the sickle, and keeping time and pace with the 
full-grown shearers. For this work he earned two shillings a 
day and his food — a rate of payment never before received by 
a boy of his age. 

At the age of twelve he was sent for a quarter to a finishing 



GEORGE MOORE. 309 

school at Blennerhasset. " The master," he would afterwards 
say, " was a good writer and a superior man, indeed, a sort of 
genius. For the first time I felt that .there was some use in 
learning, and then I began to feel how ignorant I was. How- 
ever, I never swerved from my resolve to go away from home. 
I had no tastes in common with my brother. I felt that I could 
not hang about half idle, with no better prospect before me 
than of being a farm-servant. So I determined that I would 
leave home at thirteen, and fight the battle of life for myself." 

In pursuance of this sturdy resolution, he was bound appren- 
tice for four years to a draper in Wigton named Messenger. 
He slept at his master's house, but procured his meals at an 
adjoining inn ; an unfortunate arrangement, for it involved him 
in bad company, and accustomed him to habits of drinking and 
gambling. These might have been his ruin, but for an incident 
which he describes in an autobiographical sketch preserved by 
Mr. Smiles. 

" I had arranged an easy method for getting into my master's 
house at night, after my gambling bouts. I left a lower window 
unfastened, and by lifting the sash, and putting the shutters 
back, I climbed in, and went silently up to my bed in the attic. 
But my master having heard some strange reports as to my 
winnings and losings at cards, and fearing that it might at last 
end in some disaster to himself, determined to put a stop to my 
gambling pursuits. One night, after I had gone out with my 
cards, he nailed down the window through which I usually got 
entrance to the house, and when I returned, and wished to get 
in, lo ! the window was firmly closed against me. 

" It was five o'clock in the morning of Christmas Eve. That 
morning proved the turning-point in my life ! After vainly 



3IO SELF-HELP. 

trying to open the window, I went up the lane alongside the 
house. About a hundred yards up, I climbed to the ridge of 
the lowest house in the row. From thence I clambered my 
way up to the next highest house, and then managed to creep 
along the ridges of the intervening houses until I reached the 
top of my master's dwelling — the highest house of all. I slid 
down the slates until I reached the waterspout. I got hold of 
it, and hung suspended over the street. I managed to get my 
feet on to the window-sill, and pushed up the window with my 
left foot. This was no danger or difficulty to me, as I had 
often been let down by bigger boys than myself, with a rope 
round my waist, into the old round tower at Whitehall, that I 
might rob the jackdaws of their meat and eggs." 

A lad who could accomplish such a feat as this must neces- 
sarily have been endowed with no ordinary determination, 
presence of mind, and strength of will. That in after-life he 
would depend upon himself, and not upon others, might safely 
have been predicted by any person cognizant of the circum- 
stance. As a conclusion to the narrative, we must add that, 
when young Moore got into his room and retired to bed, he was 
seized with a full conviction of the folly and sinfulness of the 
life he had been leading, and resolved to give up drinking and 
gambling ; a resolution never broken. 

As soon as his apprenticeship came to an end, George 
Moore, with thirty pounds and his clothes, repaired to London 
in quest of employment. He arrived there on Maunday 
Thursday, 1825. On the following Monday he went from 
draper to draper endeavoring to obtain employment as an as- 
sistant. He called at as many as thirty shops daily for a whole 
week, meeting repulse bravely, and never losing heart. At 



GEORGE MOORE. 311 

length he was engaged by a Cumberland man, Mr. Ray, a part- 
ner in a Soho Square firm, at ^30 a year ; and he felt that he 
had secured his start in life. His feet were on the first round 
of the ladder, and he had made up his mind to get as near the 
top as possible. 

But this could not be accomplished without much hard 
work. " I soon found," he writes, " that, coming green from 
the country, I labored under many disadvantages. Compared 
with the young men with whom I was associated, I found my 
education very deficient, and my speech betrayed that I had 
not lived in London all my life. Indeed, it smacked strongly 
of Cumberland and Cumberland folks. The first thing I did 
to remedy my defects was to put myself to school at night 
after the hours of employment were over ; and many an hour 
have I borrowed from sleep in order to employ it on the im- 
provement of my mind. At the end of eighteen months I had 
acquired a considerable addition to my previous knowledge, 
and felt myself able to take my stand side by side with my 
competitors. Let no one rely on what is termed luck. Depend 
upon it, that the only luck is merit, and that no young man will 
make his way unless he possesses knowledge, and exerts all his 
power in the accomplishment of his objects." 

We are not writing a biography of George Moore, but select- 
ing only such details as will illustrate the advantage of free and 
independent action in the great struggle of life. We pass on, 
therefore, to his assumption of a new character, that of a com- 
mercial traveller, in which he speedily discovered his deficiency 
in the very important qualifications of accuracy, quickness, and 
promptitude, and by a course of severe self-discipline proceeded 
to supply it. After some experience in " town travelling," he 



312 SELF-HELP. 

was sent into the Liverpool and Manchester district to collect 
orders and transact business for his employers, a firm of whole- 
sale lace-dealers in Watling Street. His energy proved irresist- 
ible. He almost doubled the business of the firm, while he 
performed his journeys in a much shorter time than any pre- 
vious agent. " He had nothing of the dawdler about him ; " 
he lost not a moment in waiting for others to help him. 

At first the result of his exertions was the sole benefit of his 
employers, but after awhile he himself profited by them. He 
attracted the attention of another lace-dealing firm, Messrs. 
Groucock & Copestake, who, after some negotiation, offered 
him a partnership, which he accepted. Thus, in June, 1830, 
at the age of twenty-three, he occupied an independent position, 
and might fairly calculate upon a competency. The firm, how- 
ever, was of very recent standing, and there was much uphill 
work to be done, which George Moore was the very man to do. 
His strength of character, backed by a good constitution, was 
equal to any amount of labor. And he had an object in view, 
the hand of a lady, his first love and his only love, whom for 
some years he had determined to win as his wife. " I believe," 
he afterwards said, " that I never could have surmounted the 
difficulties and hardships which I had to encounter but for the 
thought of her. I thought of her while going my rounds by 
day, and I thought of her while travelling by coach at night." 
He certainly needed some such stimulus, as his usual day's 
work was about sixteen hours, and as a rule he was up two 
nights a week. And, in truth, had his motive been less worthy, 
we should have found it impossible to praise a devotion to busi- 
ness which precluded all efforts at intellectual cultivation. 

Such perseverance had its reward. It is just such men as 



GEORGE MOORE. 313 

Moore whom the deities befriend. The transactions of the firm 
increased every month, every week, necessitating their removal 
to a larger place of business. " In the course of my peregrina- 
tions," he says, " I visited every market town in England, 
Scotland, Ireland, and Wales, with very few exceptions. I 
also visited the Nottingham markets, where we had to thank 
the manufacturers for their always unbounded confidence. 
Groucock and I also travelled through most of the towns of 
Belgium and France to buy lace and to open our operations for 
the future. Independently of this, I worked my own journey — 
Liverpool, Manchester, Edinburgh, Glasgow, and Dublin — 
single-handed. For twelve years I never missed, excepting 
once, starting for Ireland on the first Monday of every month." 

In August, 1840, the dream of many years was fulfilled, and 
he married the daughter of his first employer. The business of 
the firm was now thoroughly established, and Mr. Moore par- 
tially gave up travelling. " He confined himself to drilling the 
new men, and introducing them to his Customers ; and when a 
journey was not working well, to take it in hand himself, and 
give it a strong push. He worked very hard on these occasions. 
He used to say that no one was fit to be a salesman, who 
could not work sixteen hours a day. He himself had done so 
for twelve years. 

He continued a vigorous worker to the last. His exertions 
having been rewarded with ample success, he was enabled to 
render substantial assistance, and to devote much of his time 
and energy, to charitable projects of a high character. He 
came to regard himself as a steward of the abundant means 
with which Heaven had blessed him, charged to administer them 
for the benefit of his fellows ; and his benevolence was so ex- 



3H SELF-HELP. 

tensive and so continuous, that in metropolitan records he will 
always be not less honored as a philanthropist than as a fore- 
most merchant. He did not indulge in that lazy form of 
charity, the giving of money in subscriptions or donations ; but 
his advice and encouragement were always ready, and into cases 
of individual distress he inquired with keen sympathy. It has 
been said, with respect to the forms of good works which he 
preferred, that they were those which put within the reach of 
Fortune's less favored children the means of self -elevation. " He 
had no faith in the inevitable permanence, in any of God's 
creatures, of a low and dust-trodden condition. The reptile 
state was not a normal state of humanity ; and if man, woman, 
or child had the misfortune to be born in such a condition, he 
would have them lift themselves out of it as soon as they could. 
Hence the heartiness with which he threw himself into the 
Ragged School movement, mothers' meetings, lectures for 
workingmen, meetings of cabmen at his own house, with any 
other exceptional scheme that might be suggested for benefiting 
those whom our older and more established agencies for 
ameliorating the condition of the humbler classes had either 
overlooked or at least failed to reach. With the late Charles 
Kingsley, he felt that there was no human " mud " which was 
not worth caring for, or which would not abundantly repay the 
pains and cost of husbandry for nobler uses, 

There never was a life, perhaps, that more vividly illustrated 
the principle of self-help, of self-elevation, than that of George 
Moore, and this not only from a material, but from a moral and 
intellectual point of view. He not only made himself what he 
was as an opulent merchant holding a high social position, but 
he taught himself all he knew, and, by the exercise of a con- 






WORDS IVOR TH y S LEE CH- GA THERE R. 3 I 5 

stant vigilance and a prayerful patience, succeeded in conquer- 
ing these defects of character which might otherwise have 
fatally impeded his progress. 

Knowingly or unknowingly, he had taken to heart the lesson 
inculcated by Wordsworth's humble leech-gatherer : — 

" He told me that he to this pond had come 
To gather leeches, being old and poor — 
Employment hazardous and wearisome ! 
And he had many hardships to endure ; 
From pond to pond he roamed, from moor to moor, 
Housing, with God's good help, by choice or chance ; 
And in this way he gained an honest maintenance. 

" The old man still stood talking by my side ; 
But now his voice to me was like a stream 
Scarce heard, nor word from word could I divide ; 
And the whole body of the man did seem 
Like one whom I had met with in a dream ; 
Or like a man from some far region sent 
To give me human strength and strong admonishment." 

The poet, perplexed by the old man's simple words, puts to 
him the significant question, " How is it that you live ? What 
is it you do ? " 

" He with a smile did then his words repeat ; 
And said, that, gathering leeches far and wide 
He travelled ; stirring thus about his feet 
The waters of the ponds where they abide. 
' Once I could meet with them on every side ; 
But they have dwindled long by slow decay ; 
Yet still I persevere, and find them where I may.' 

" While he was talking thus, the lonely place, 

The old man's shape, and speech, all troubled me ; 

In my mind's eye I seemed to see him pass 

Above the weary moors continually, 

Wandering about alone and silently. 

While I these thoughts within myself pursued, 

He, having made a pause, the same discourse renewed. 

" And soon with this he other matter blended, 
Cheerfully uttered, with demeanor kind, 
But stately in the main ; and when he ended, 



316 SELF-HELP. 

I could have laughed myself to scorn, to find 

In that decrepit man so firm a mind. 

' God,' said I, ' be my help and stay secure ; 

I'll think of the leech-gatherer on the lonely moor.' " 

And well would it be for our young men if they would profit 
by the lesson which the leech-gatherer taught — a lesson which 
the poet embodies in the following words : — 

" But how can man expect that others should 
Build for him, sow for him, and at his call 
Love him, who for himself will take no heed at all ?" 

If a man cannot rise by his own labor, he had better remain 
where he is. Patronage may lift him into a certain position, 
but it is one which he will not have merited, and to which he 
will not do justice. The round men are found so often in the 
square holes, and the square men in the round holes, because 
they are not there of their own choosing or their own working, 
but have been placed in them by the will of others or by stress 
of circumstances. To such can never come "the rapture of 
the strife," the happiness of having fought and conquered, the 
healthy exultant sense of difficulties overcome, troubles endured, 
temptations put aside. What true manly soul cares for the 
prize which he has done nothing to obtain ? Who would wish 
to run a race in which there was no competition ? D'Alembert, 
the great French mathematician, was exposed and abandoned 
by his mother in a public market, and brought up as a found- 
ling at the expense of public charity. A glazier's wife became 
his foster-mother. At an early age he gave unmistakable indi- 
cations of genius of a high order ; but while his father, who 
had discovered his condition, wished him to embrace the legal 
profession or the medical, D'Alembert's bias was towards liter- 
ature and science. Nor could he be dissuaded. He applied 



DR. NORMAN MACLEOD. 3 17 

all the powers of his mind to the study of mathematics. As 
must often happen to the self-taught, he was continually baffled 
by finding, after he had struck out (as he conceived) an original 
idea, that others had discovered it before him. But he perse- 
vered ; and an essay on the Integral Calculus which he pub- 
lished in 1739 procured him his election as a member of the 
Academy of Sciences in 1741. He was then only twenty-four 
years old. When his fame was well established, his mother, 
the celebrated beauty, Madame de Tencin, was fain to own 
him ; but he rejected her advances. What did he owe to her 
except his birth. He had made himself. 

It is very interesting to study the life of that most genial of 
Presbyterian divines, the late Dr. Norman Macleod, with a 
view to the power of self-elevation which it so markedly brings 
out. Intended from an early age for the office of the ministry, 
he displayed an exuberance of spirits and a fondness for the 
humorous aspect of things which, to rigid observers, boded ill 
for his efficient discharge of a solemn responsibility. He him- 
self had qualms of conscience at times lest he should acquire 
tastes and habits uncongenial to his future profession, and 
thought it almost impossible to battle against the myriad trifles 
which insidiously collect round the mind, like iron filings on a 
magnet till it is all covered. But he resolved that it should 
not be impossible, and entered on a course of diligent self- 
scrutiny and self -watchfulness which sobered and steadied with- 
out darkening his character. Against a natural tendency to self- 
indulgence he maintained an earnest and therefore a successful 
conflict. In such a conflict no human influences could avail 
him much ; a man must fight his own battle against himself. 
" How strange," he writes, " are the glimpses which we some 



3 1 8 SELF-HELP. 

times have of something beyond the sense — a strange feeling, 
flitting as the aurora, but as bright, of a spiritual world with 
which our souls seem longing to mingle, and, like a bird 
which from infancy reared in a cage, has an instinctive love 
for scenes more congenial to its habits, and flutters about 
when it sees green woods and a summer sky, and droops its 
head when it feels they are seen through the bars of its prison ! 
But the door shall yet be opened, and the songs it has learnt 
in confinement shall yet be heard in the sunny sky, and it shall 
be joined by a thousand other birds, and a harmonious song 
will rise on high ! Oh, if we could but keep the purity of the 
soul ! But sense is the giant which fetters us and gains the 
victory." Herein lies the mystery (so to speak) of self-help. 
We must summon all our resources, as Macleod did, as so 
many good men have done, to drive back the attacks of sense, 
and preserve inviolate the fortress of the soul. We must not 
be misunderstood. This self-help or self-elevation cannot be 
achieved without the Divine blessing, Man can do nothing 
for us, but God can and will if we seek Him in prayer. 
Writing in his journal, under date of ist October, 1855, Mac- 
leod notes as things he must aim at and pray for : — 

" 1. To perfect holiness. Is it possible that I shall habitu- 
ally possess myself, and exercise holy watchfulness over my 
words and temper, so that in public and private I shall live as 
a man who truly realizes God's constant presence, who is one 
with Christ, and therefore lives among men and acts towards 
them with His mind and spirit ? /, meek, humble, loving, ever 
by my life drawing more to Christ — self behind, Christ before ! 
I believe this to be as impossible by my own resolving as that 
I could become a Shakespeare, a Newton, a Milton ; yet if 



JOHN BUNYAN. 3 1 9 

God calls me to this, God can so enable me to realise it that 
He shall be pleased with me. 

" 2. To know and improve every talent to the utmost, whether 
in preaching, writing, speaking, acting. I feel convinced that 
every man has given him of God much more than he has any 
idea of, and that he can help on the world's work more than 
he knows of. What we want is the single eye that will see 
what our work is ; the humility to accept it, however lowly ; 
the faith to do it for God ; the perseverance to go on till 
death." 

In taking this wider view of self-help, self-elevation, or self- 
culture, — call it which you will, — we are irresistibly reminded 
of the name of John Bunyan. The reader who took up " The 
Pilgrim's Progress " without any previous knowledge of its 
author would conjecture from its pages that he was a man who 
had suffered much, sorrowed much, striven much, but certainly 
not that he was the son of a tinker, perhaps of a gipsy tinker, 
— that he was born and bred in the lowest stratum of English 
society. It was only by a process of self-elevation that he 
rose to the moral and intellectual fervor which gave birth to 
his sublime allegory. When we think of that allegory, with all 
its richness of illustration, all its insight into human character, 
all its profound human interest, and all its wealth of original 
invention ; and when we think of its creator, how wretched 
was his education, how mean were his early surroundings, 
how wild and coarse the atmosphere of his youthful life, we 
are lost in wonder at the apparent gulf between them. From 
such a tree who could have expected fruit so rare and glorious ? 

We know, indeed, that to attain to the height of spiritual 
elevation indicated by " The Pilgrim's Progress," Bunyan passed 



320 SELF-HELP. 

through a condition of mental anguish and trial darker far 
than anything prefigured in his own imaginary " Slough of 
Despond." He was purified as by fire, and the odor of the 
flames clung to his soul to the last. Few of us are called upon 
to bear what he bore, though we must all submit to the work 
of self-purification if we would come in due time to the work 
of self-conquest. Bunyan's experiences, however, were excep- 
tionally severe. He drank the cup of bitterness to the dregs. 
While hearing sweet voices from heavenly heights, and seeing 
strange visions of their sunlit summits, he himself was as one 
placed in a black and horrible wilderness, like the dreary ice- 
bound circle in Dante's "Inferno." Macaulay's description is 
well known. " At one time Bunyan was seized with an in- 
clination to work miracles. At another time he thought him- 
self actually possessed by the devil. He could distinguish the 
blasphemous whispers. He felt his infernal enemy pulling at 
his clothes behind him. He spurned with his feet and struck 
with his hands at the destroyer. Sometimes he was tempted 
to sell his part in the salvation of mankind. Sometimes a 
violent impulse urged him to start up from his food, to fall on 
his knees, and to break forth into prayer. At length he fancied 
that he had committed the unpardonable sin. His agony con- 
vulsed his robust frame. * * * The agitation of his nerves made 
all his movements tremulous, and this trembling he supposed, 
was a visible mark of his reprobation like that which had been 
set on Cain." In his own emphatic words : — " Methought I 
saw as if the sun that shineth in the heavens did grudge to 
give me light, and as if the very stones in the streets and tiles 
upon the houses did band themselves against me. Methought 
that they all combined together to banish me out of the world. 



JOHN BUNYAN. 3 21 

I was abhorred of them, and unfit to dwell among them, be- 
cause I had sinned against the Saviour." 

Through this valley of the shadow of death, brave, self- 
helping, self-watching John Bunyan struggled into the bright 
and beautiful land of Beulah, and crowned himself with victory. 
But if we thus account for the spiritual excellence of his im- 
mortal work, we have still to consider the manner in which the 
tinker's son conquered the difficulties of his birth and breed- 
ing, and fitted himself intellectually for its composition. " The 
Pilgrim's Progress " it must be remembered, claims the admira- 
tion of the critic by its appropriate imagery and varied yet 
always admirable style. " There is no book in our literature," 
says Macaulay, " on which we would so readily stake the fame 
of the old unpolluted English language, no book which shows 
so well how rich that language is in its own proper wealth, 
and how little it has been improved by all that it has bor- 
rowed." How came Bunyan to produce this masterpiece ? At 
school he learned only to read and write, both of which 
humanising arts he speedily lost, to recover them afterwards 
by his own exertions. His boyhood was idle, dissolute, godless. 
He describes himself, perhaps with unintentional exaggeration, 
as scarcely equalled for his years in " cursing, swearing, lying, 
and blaspheming the name of God." In all juvenile mischief 
he was foremost, throwing into everything evil as well as good 
the wild energy of his undisciplined nature. Most of his time 
was given up to athletic sports ; his principal amusements were 
bell-ringing and dancing, in which he particularly delighted to 
indulge upon the Sabbath-day. At an early age either his love 
of adventure or his poverty induced him to enter the army, 
and he saw some sharp service in the field. At the conclusion 



322 SELF-HELP. 

of the Civil War he returned home and married. His wife's 
dowry appears to have been two volumes of practical religion, 
and it was the perusal of these which opened the eyes of 
Bunyan to the possibility of a better life. He began to attend 
church, but not with the result that might have been hoped ; 
for, hearing a strong Calvanistic sermon, his mind became dis- 
turbed, and he was led to conclude that his soul was destined 
to perdition. In this conviction he grew reckless, and resumed 
all his old evil habits. But standing beside a neighbor's window 
"playing the madman," the woman of the house sallied forth 
and publicly branded him as a corruptor of youth and the 
most blasphemous wretch in the town. The shaft struck home. 
He resolved that no such reproach should again be hurled at 
him. He began the work, slow and painful in Bunyan's case, 
of self-elevation. His vocabulary of oaths was abandoned ; 
he gave up his idle pastimes and companions ; and at one 
time bid fair to develop into an offensive Pharisee. But 
some accidental experiences saved him from this fatal mis- 
take, and his conscience and his imagination being alike awak- 
ened, he descended into that valley of darkness of which we 
have already spoken. How long he might have wandered 
in it, like poor Cowper, is uncertain, but he found a guide out 
of it after some eighteen months in Luther's " Commentary on 
the Galatians," which he studied carefully, and to the recovery 
of his soul's health. What other books he read we know not, 
but the author of '* The' Pilgrim's Progress" and "The Holy 
War " must have read largely and thoughtfully. It is probable 
that he continued his studies in the seclusion of Bedford jail, 
to which he was committed in November, 1660, as an itinerant 
preacher, " a common upholder of unlawful meetings and con- 






JOHN BUNYAN. 323 

venticles." In his prison he planned, and, it may be, wrote the 
first part of, his "Pilgrim's Progress." 

We need trace his biography no further. Without the en- 
couragement of friends or the assistance of teachers, John 
Bunyan, the tinker's son, grew to be capable of the authorship 
of the grandest allegory in our language. Was not this the 
very triumph of self-help ? Bunyan, in helping himself helped 
others, as do all who are truly self-helpers and not self-worship- 
pers. The fruit of his prolific intellect and generous sympathies 
he placed at the world's disposal, that men might eat of it and 
live. How many a soul has thus benefited by the laborious 
struggle which Bunyan bore alone and friendless ! 

The philosophy of self-help seems to be embodied in the 
wise words which Carlyle ascribes to Professor Teufelsdrockh: — 
" The situation that has not its duty, its ideal, was never yet 
occupied by man. Yes here, in this poor, miserable, hampered, 
despicable actual, wherein thou even now standest, here or 
nowhere is thy ideal : work it out therefore ; and working, 
believe, live, be free. Fool ! the ideal is in thyself, the im- 
pediment too is in thyself : thy condition is but the stuff thou 
art* to shape that same ideal out of : what matters whether 
such stuff be of this sort or that, so the form thou givest it 
be heroic, be poetic ! Oh, thou that pinest in the imprison- 
ment of the actual, and criest bitterly to the gods for a king- 
dom wherein to rule and create, know this of a truth : the thing 
thou desirest is already with thee, 'here or nowhere,' couldst 
thou only see ! " 

The first element of self-help or self-devotion is, then, the 
recognition of our duty ; and the second element the applica- 
tion of all our powers to its performance. Whatever our con- 



324 SELF-HELP. 

dition, it brings with it its law of service, — that is, responsibili- 
ties which no other than ourselves can discharge, and opportu- 
nities which no other than ourselves can seize. "Let him," to 
quote Teufelsdrockh again, " who gropes principally in dark- 
ness or uncertain light, and prays vehemently that the dawn 
may ripen into day, lay this precept well to heart, ' Do the 
duty which lies nearest thee.' " We shall need no help from 
others if we keep this truth ever before us, as the mariner- 
of old fixed their gaze on the polar star. Success in life, 
moral, intellectual, or material, turns upon it as upon a pivot ; 
or, to change the image, it is the only key which unlocks to 
Endeavor the gate of the sanctuary where reposes the Holy 
Grail— 

" Clothed in white samite as a luminous cloud." 

The material successes of self-help have been copiously 
illustrated in Mr. Smiles's well-known volume ; and to the 
illustrations he has brought together numbers might easily be 
added. We feel almost inclined to say that the men who rule 
the world, who make large fortunes, who control the leading 
channels of commerce, who infuse activity into municipal life, 
who cultivate every new field of enterprise, were and have been 
self-helpers. By unrelaxing diligence, economy of time and 
method, the patience that bears all things, the perseverance 
that never knows defeat, the energy that is inexhaustible, the 
iron will that cannot be bent, and the singleness of purpose 
that never swerves, they conquer " chance and circumstance." 
We have set before the reader some examples of great men of 
business, and he will find that each of them owed his success 
to his "good right hand." The most celebrated American 
university, that of Harvard, received not long ago a noble legacy 



MR. BUSSEY, 325 

from a Boston merchant who belonged to the same army of self- 
helpers. Mr. Bussey was bred to the trade of a silversmith, and 
as soon as he had mastered its details he resolved to start on 
his own account. For an independent venture his means were 
assuredly limited ; but he could work and he could wait, and he 
was capable of the sternest self-denial. His father placed in his 
hands " a very small amount of paper money," with three items 
of good advice ; namely, to be always diligent, to spend less 
than he earned, and never to deceive or disappoint any one. 
From his grandfather he received fifty dollars in silver. 

When he had purchased the necessary tools, his capital was 
reduced to ten dollars, and he owed fifty dollars borrowed 
money. He made no complaints, however, and applied to none 
of his friends. Endowed with a strong constitution, and rich 
in an incorruptible integrity and a spirit of inflexible persever- 
ance, he set to work. In one year he made great progress in 
the processes of the silversmith's art, secured many excellent 
customers, increased his capital, and established his business 
on a solid basis. Finely-wrought articles of gold and silver, the 
work of his own hands, are still to be met with in and near 
Boston. In two years he purchased the land on which his 
house was situated. Still his business increased ; he engaged 
in large commercial operations ; exported his wares to England, 
France, and Holland ; and became the owner of several ves- 
sels. Eventually he acquired an enormous fortune, the chief 
object of so many aspirants ; but not, to judge from the use he 
made of it, of this professor of the science of self-help. 

In the same connection we think of the names of the late 
Mr. Cassell, of London, who gave so strong an impulse to the 
diffusion of popular literature of a wholesome character ; 



326 SELF-HELP. 

Joseph Denison, of Leeds, whose parents were too poor to give 
him even the rudiments of education, but who, by unabated 
industry, raised himself to the senior partnership in a great 
banking-firm ; and George Peabody, to whom the poor of 
London are so largely indebted. Mr. Peabody's father died 
while his son was yet in his early boyhood ; and the lad soon 
learned that he had no friend or helper but himself. Fortu- 
nately, he had that in himself which is infinitely better than 
external support, a brave heart, a clear head, and a firm will. 
At the age of thirteen he obtained employment as clerk to a 
grocer, with whom he remained for about three years, devoting 
all his earnings to the comfort of his mother, his brothers, and 
sisters. Afterwards he removed from Danvers to Georgetown, 
where his business habits and qualities attracted the attention 
of a Mr. Rigg, a capitalist, who accepted him as a partner, he 
finding the money, and Peabody the brains. The joint ad- 
venture proved eminently successful. In due time the firm 
removed to Baltimore, establishing branches in New York and 
Philadelphia. In 1832 Mr. Peabody visited England to pur- 
chase goods, and formed many pleasant acquaintances with the 
leading merchants and politicians. The " Old Home " so 
strongly engaged his sympathies that he resolved to settle in 
England, and he severed his connection with the American firm 
in 1839. Prosperity still attended his efforts, and he soon took 
his place among the great merchant-princes of London, whom 
he emulated in benevolence as in enterprise. 

Self-help claims as its votary the founder of the house of 
Phipps. He was born in a small town of New England, one 
of a family of six-and-twenty children. His father was a gun- 
smith, and a man of scanty means ; but the straitened circum- 



WILLIAM P HIP PS. 327 

stances in which he spent his boyish years did not prevent him 
from forming, as so many boys of sturdy will and conscious 
courage do, a grand conception of future success. At the age 
of twenty-three, however, the conception was still unfulfilled ; 
and Phipps was only a working carpenter, who had started 
business with a-, small capital provided by a young widow whom 
he had married. His golden dreams, however, were active still, 
and he amused his wife by predicting, that on some day yet to 
come, he should be the owner of " a fair brick house in the 
Green Lane of North Boston ; " and it might even be that 
" this would not be, all the providence of God would bring him 
to." The profound self-reliance and resolute determination 
which marked his character eventually justified his apparently 
idle vaunt. His business as a shipwright brought him into con- 
tact with many seafaring men, and from one of them he learned 
that, somewhere off the Bahama Islands, lay a wrecked vessel, 
on board of which was a great cargo of gold and silver. The 
idea of recovering this wreck took fast hold of his mind ; and 
entering on board a ship as a common sailor, he made his way 
to England, with the view of securing the patronage of the 
court for his scheme of recovering the buried treasure. He 
met with the usual delays, but by dint of importunity obtained 
a hearing, and being provided with a vessel, sailed for the 
Bahamas. Even yet, however, his difficulties were not over. 
His crew mutinied, and when he engaged a new one, it proved 
of so unsatisfactory a composition that he deemed it prudent 
to return to England. There he had to undergo a repetition of 
the old delays, to brook much incredulous laughter, and to 
chafe under insolent contempt. But having contrived to gain 
the favor of Monk, Duke of Albemarle, and some other high 



328 SELF-HELP. 

personages, he was provided with another ship and crew, and 
in good spirits sailed " for the fishing ground which had been 
so well baited half an hundred years before." At Port de la 
Plata he set his men to work to build out of a large cotton tree 
a canoe or periagua, which would carry eight or ten oars, and 
might be used for exploring the dangerous shallows off the 
Bahamas known as " the Boilers," among which no ship could 
safely venture. 

For days and weeks the treasure-seekers continued their 
weary quest, and probably every heart was sick of it except 
that of the persistent and resolute commander. At last, one 
of the crew of the periagua, as she glided over the shallow tide, 
happened to see in the luminous depths the waving plumes of 
the sea-feather, and ordered an Indian diver to gather it for 
him that he might not return empty-handed. The diver quickly 
brought up the feather, and had a wonderful story to tell. 
Close by the rock where it had flourished many great guns, he 
said, were lying scattered. He was bidden to descend a second 
time and make further exploration. Before long he came up 
with a large ingot of silver worth several hundreds of pounds. 
The crew of the periagua, having fixed a buoy to indicate the 
spot, hastened to join their ship. For awhile they said nothing 
of their discovery, but set up the " sow of silver " in the cabin 
as a surprise for Captain Phipps. When his glance fell upon 
it, he cried out with some agony, " Why, what is this ? Whence 
comes this ? " Then, with changed countenance, they told him 
where and how they got it. " Thanks be to God," he ex- 
claimed, " we are made ! " 

The work of exploration was now carried on right cheerfully. 
Thirty-two tons of silver were recovered. Over the precious 






WILLIAM P HIP PS. 329 

metal had grown a calcareous incrustation some inches in 
thickness, which the men had to break through with their tools, 
and " whole bushels of rusty pieces of eight " would then come 
"tumbling out." A considerable amount of gold, pearls, and 
other precious stones, was also collected. The value of the 
whole being nearly ^300,000, it is no marvel that Captain 
William Phipps began to fear lest his crew should rebel, mur- 
der him, and carry off the treasure. Pious were the vows he 
vowed if only " the Lord would convey him safely to England 
with what He had given him to enjoy of the abundance of the 
seas and of the treasures hid in the sands." If Jove laughs at 
lovers' prayers, he probably does at the vows of fortune-seekers ; 
but Phipps reached England without accident, and was warmly 
welcomed by his ducal patron. As well he might, since Monk's 
share of the booty was in itself a fortune. As for Phipps, he 
received ^16,000 (equal, we suppose, to about ^100,000 at 
the present value of money), and Monk handsomely pre- 
sented him with a gold cup of ^1,000 for his wife. The King 
knighted the intrepid adventurer, and offered him employment 
in England ; but he had made up his mind to build " a fair 
brick house in the Green Lane " of Boston, and to this idea he 
clung with characteristic tenacity. So, with the title of High 
Sheriff of New England, Sir William Phipps returned home. 
There, at the age of thirty-nine, he devoutly sought the rite of 
baptism. " I have divers times," he said, " been in danger of 
my life, and I have been brought to see that I owe my life to 
Him that has given a life so often to me." His bold imagina- 
tion next meditated the conquest of Canada, but the expedition 
he led against the French was unsuccessful ; and at the early 
age of forty-five death cut short his adventurous career, into 



330 SELF-HELP, 

which so much of daring, perseverance, and audacious enter- 
prise had been crowded.* The late Marquis of Normanby 
was descended from Sir William Phipps. 

What a romance of deep and stirring interest is involved in 
the records of self-help ! What tales they preserve of courage- 
ous wrestling with fortune, of hope long deferred but finally 
realized, of struggling ambition and generous aspiration, of dis- 
appointments that make the heart sick, of long endurance and 
silent resolution, of arduous labor and self-discipline, of temp- 
tations resisted and the deathless victories of mind ! We think 
of Poussin on his road to Paris painting signboards in order to 
earn the day's pittance of food ; of Chantry, the sculptor, 
driving an ass with milk-cans on its back to supply his mother's 
customers with milk ; of Richard Foley, founder of the titled 
family of that name, repairing to Sweden to learn the Swedish 
process of nail-splitting, and fiddling his way from the west to 
the Dannemora mines, near Upsala. It is only the perusal of 
narratives such as these which can teach us what man has done 
and is capable of doing ; what he can endure, what he can ac- 
complish, and how much of the heroic is in his nature. " In 
life," said the German painter, u nothing bears fruit except by 
travail of mind or body. To strive, and strive, and strive — 
such is life. With a strong soul and a lofty aim, one can do 
what one wills, morally speaking." This is the truth which all 
histories of self-help and its triumphs enforce. But then, he 
who acts upon it must act upon it thoroughly. The people 
who fail are the people who only "half will," and self-help im- 
plies an absolute concentration of all our forces. We must say, 

* He died in London in 1695. The Duke of Albemarle, to whom allusion 
is made, was the second Duke, son of the King-re'storer. 



CHURLISH INDEPENDENCE. 33 1 

with Napoleon, " There shall be no Alps." Or, like Sir Charles 
Napier, when difficulties press upon us, that they do not make 
our feet go deeper into the ground. 

In dealing with this subject of self-help, we are embarrassed 
by the fact that so many have dealt with it before us, and used 
the illustrations we should like to use, repeated the anecdotes 
we should like to tell. Yet, in treating of the secret of success 
in life, it was impossible to omit what we regard as its most 
essential portion. Industry, and courage, and determination, 
and physical and mental culture, are all indispensable, but are 
all of little value without those other high qualities which we 
regard as summed up in self-help. But here, as elsewhere in 
these pages, we are unwilling to exaggerate. Because we would 
fain preach with " a forty-parson power " what we believe to be 
a wholesome and profitable gospel, we do not desire to encourage 
in our readers a mood of churlish independence. Because we 
would not have them rely on a friend or a patron, because we 
think it the part of a true and honest man to trust to himself 
and his own exertions, we do not say that they are to shut their 
ears to the voice of sympathy, or reject the generous hand 
when they can accept it without loss of honor. As Mr. Hay- 
ward says, " Do we not all know hundreds who have got on by 
patronage ? or who have got their first step through a patron, 
and with occasional help of the same kind have risen steadily 
and creditably to the top of the tree ?" 

But when these questions have been answered in the affima- 
tive, and when we have guarded against exaggeration of view 
or statement, the fact remains, that the completest and most 
satisfactory victories are those which are won by our own 
strength and courage. We are then able to say, as Jean Paul 



33 2 SELF-HELP. 

Richter said, " I have made as much out of myself as could be 
made out of the stuff ; " and neither Heaven nor man will re- 
quire of us more. 

Many of our readers will be familiar with the story of Joseph 
Marie Jacquard, the inventor of the loom for figure-weaving. 
The son of an industrious couple at Lyons, he was born on the 
7th of July, 1752. His father was a weaver, his mother a pat- 
tern-reader. He taught himself to read and write ; for though 
his parents possessed a small estate, they seem to have been 
indisposed to expend it on his education, and, as soon as he 
was old enough, they placed him with a bookbinder. Here he 
gained a knowledge of mathematics through the kindness of his 
master's cashier, who, observing his extraordinary mechanical 
ingenuity, evinced by a number of little contrivances, recom- 
mended his parents to apprentice him to some trade in which 
it would be advantageously utilized. He was apprenticed, 
therefore, to a cutler ; but he was treated so harshly that he 
abandoned his engagement, and obtained work from a type- 
founder. 

His father dying, Jacquard came into possession of a couple 
of looms, and forthwith proceeded to carry on the trade of a 
weaver. But as his inventive mind was always busy in devising 
mechanical improvements, his business suffered, until, in order 
to pay his debts, he was forced to sell his looms. He had 
fallen in love and married ; and as his indebtedness increased 
with the increased expenses of his household, he was next 
obliged to part with his cottage. Destitution would probably 
have been his lot but for the industry and thrift of his wife, 
who made straw-hats at Lyons, while Jacquard worked as a 
pinmaker at Bresse. Hitherto, as the reader perhaps is think- 



JOSEPH MARIE JACQUARD. 333 

ing, self-help had done nothing for Joseph Marie Jacquard, 
because he had not found his vocation. He was groping in all 
direction, so to speak, to find his proper work, the work he was 
fitted and destined to do ; but as yet it had not come within 
his reach. Fortune is like one of those mysterious caskets 
which, can be opened only by the touch of a hidden spring ; 
and men handle it first on one side, and then on another, press 
it here and press it there, without finding, many of them, the 
coveted secret. The characteristic feature of Jacquard's 
genius was its inventiveness, and even in his direst poverty he 
continued to toil at his projected improvement of the cumbrous 
draw-loom. In 1790, he contrived to bring before the public 
his mechanism for selecting the warp-threads, which, when 
added to the loom, enabled the weaver to dispense with a draw- 
boy. It rose into immediate favor, and in ten years four thou- 
sand were sold in Lyons alone. 

The Revolutionary storm now caught him in its throes. He 
joined the Moderate party at Lyons, and enrolled himself and 
his son, a lad of fifteen, among the volunteer defenders of the 
city, when it was besieged in 1793 by the army of the Conven- 
tion. The city was taken, but Jacquard and his son contrived 
to escape from the hideous massacre that followed, and enlisted 
in the army of the Rhine. Carrying into this new vocation the 
energy and determination of his character, he rose to the rank 
of sergeant, and might have risen higher, but his son being 
killed in battle by his side, he deserted, and made his way back 
on foot to Lyons in search of his wife. He found her in an 
obscure garret, still plying with busy fingers her trade of straw- 
bonnet making. His ideas then returned to their former chan- 
nel ; and having secured employment from a trading manufac- 



334 SELF-HELP. 

turer, he devoted his hours of leisure at night to the congenial 
occupation of invention. His busy brain soon devised im- 
provements of great value, and one day he indicated their 
nature to his employer, expressing his regret that he had not 
the means of carrying them out. His master, however, had 
the intelligence to appreciate them, and the generosity to place 
a sum of money at Jacquard's disposal that he might give up 
all his time to their practical realization. In three months the 
Jacquard loom was completed (1801), was exhibited at the 
Exposition of National Industry, and gained a prize. Its 
simplicity and ingenuity attracted the attention of the Minister 
Carnot, who visited the inventor at Lyons, and recommended 
him to the First Consul. For a time he was employed to 
arrange and repair the models in the Conservatoire des Arts 
et Metiers. In 1805 he gained a prize offered by the Society 
of Arts in London for making nets. At the Conservatoire he 
fell in with a loom for weaving flowered silk made by Vaucan- 
son, the celebrated inventor of automata, and this suggested to 
Jacquard's fertile fancy a further improvement of his own 
loom, which superseded the pattern or design reader. The 
Jacquard loom, thus completed, received the patronage of 
Napoleon ; but in Lyons it awakened the ignorant jealousies 
and selfish fears of the weavers, who raised the cry against 
machinery. He was hanged in effigy, and nearly drowned in 
propria persona, and an attempt was made to destroy his looms. 
The English silk manufacturers invited him to settle in Eng- 
land ; but he was too patriotic to abandon his native country, 
and preferred to wait until the value of his invention became 
generally known. Then, as he expected, a revulsion of feeling 
took place. It was found that his machine gave a new im- 



BENJAMIN THOMPSON. 335 

pulse to the weaving trade by lessening the cost of production ; 
and the workmen who would so gladly have drowned him now 
sought, on his birthday, to make him the chief figure in a 
triumphal procession. Napoleon conferred on him a pension, 
and granted a premium of fifty francs upon each of his looms 
that might be erected. Deriving from these sources a com- 
fortable income, he retired to Vallois, his father's birthplace, 
to spend the autumn of his life. He died in August, 1834, 
aged eighty-two. 

Of the life of Count Rumford, the friend of Sir Humphrey 
Davy, and the founder of the Royal Institution, it has been 
justly said that it has all the interest of a romance ; and, in 
truth, some of its incidents, if related by an inventor of fiction, 
would be readily censured as improbable. 

Benjamin Thompson, by birth and baptism the son of an 
American farmer, was born in 1753 at Woburn, in Massachu- 
setts. In his thirteenth year he was apprenticed to a general 
dealer at Salem. It was soon evident that this was not his 
metier j he neglected the store, drew caricatures, dabbled in 
scientific experiments, read all the books he could get hold of, 
and, in a word, did anything and everything but attend to his 
master's business. Being summarily dismissed, he made his 
way to Rumford (now called Concord), in New Hampshire, 
where he contrived to start a school, and, in his twentieth year, 
to secure the hand and heart of a woman of good estate. He 
was then free to engage in the scientific studies he loved, until 
the outbreak of the War of Independence compelled him to 
choose his side, and he espoused, after some little hesitation, 
the cause of the mother country. Visiting England, he was 
well received by Lord George Germaine, the Secretary of 



33 6 SELF-HELP. 

State, who, in September, 1780, appointed him Under-Secre- 
tary for the Northern or Colonial Department. It is difficult 
however, to follow all the variations of his stirring career. In 
the next year we find him in command of a regiment of dra- 
goons in Carolina. Afterwards, he serves under Sir Henry 
Clinton as commander-in-chief of the cavalry. Anon, in 1783, 
he speeds to Vienna, for the purpose of taking part in the war 
of Austria against Turkey. But attracting the attention of 
Prince Maximilian, heir-presumptive to the electoral crown of 
Bavaria, he is induced to pay a visit to Munich. Here he 
makes such excellent use of his talents, that in less than a year 
he is intrusted with the uncontrolled administration of Bava- 
rian affairs, civil and military. 

The reforms he accomplished in every department of the 
state were extraordinary. He built barracks and warehouses ; 
he established an excellent police ; he reorganized the army ; 
he introduced economy into the finances of the Electorate ; he 
suppressed mendicity ; and enacted a poor-law which was at 
once efficient and humane. He resembled one of those power- 
ful magicians of whom we read in the old fairy tales, who, 
by the magic of their wand, converted wildernesses into rose- 
gardens, and banished want and vice from the confines blessed 
by their beneficent sway. Yet even this great work of ame- 
liorating the condition of a people could not satisfy his bound- 
less energies. In the intervals of state business he was actively 
employed in adapting the principles of science to the arts of 
life. To him belongs the credit of having discovered the iden- 
tity of heat with motion ; and it was his ingenious experiments 
which demonstrated the fact of the unlimited production of 
heat from a limited quantity of matter by the expenditure of 



BENJAMIN THOMPSON. 337 

mechanical power in friction. Whatever he attempted in legis- 
lation, science, or administration, he carried into effect, he 
completed ; and left no disjecta membra of fruitless schemes to 
vex his conscience. His powers were always equal to the work 
he undertook. He asked no one to share his burden. He was 
totus in se. 

Merit does not always meet with meed, but the American 
farmer's son had no reason to complain of ingratitude. He 
received the honor of knighthood from George III. ; several 
foreign sovereigns sent him the insignia of illustrious orders ; 
and after being formally name chief of the War Department 
and lieutenant-general of the royal armies in Bavaria, he was 
created a Count of the Holy Roman Empire in 1791. Seven 
years later, having resolved to return to England for the benefit 
of his health, the grateful Elector appointed him Minister 
Plenipotentiary to the Court of St. James's ; but the appoint- 
ment fell to the ground, as Lord Granville, then Secretary of 
State for Foreign Affairs, necessarily refused to confirm it to 
an English subject. 

Settling in England, the ever-active Count devoted his atten- 
tion to the ventilation of houses and the improvement of chim- 
neys and fireplaces. He also took a leading part in the foundation 
of the Royal Institution, and ensured its success by his engage- 
ment of Sir Humphrey Davy as its lecturer. In October, 1805, 
having been upwards of twelve years a widower, he married the 
widow of Lavoisier, the celebrated chemist, but the union 
proved unhappy, and in June, 1807, an amicable separation 
took place. The Count then retired to Auteul, where, in com- 
plete seclusion, and engaged in the pursuit of his favorite 



33 8 SELF-HELP. 

studies, he lived for some years. His death took place on the 
21st of August, 1814. 

That is excellent advice which Lord Dalling gave to his god- 
daughter — " Rely on yourself for what you are yourself ; take 
a modest estimate, but never let anyone have it in their power 
to make you think more or less of yourself than you deserve. 
If you make a habit of this in early life, you will be almost in- 
dependent of the accidents of fortune till the day of your death." 
Self-respect is essential to self-help. When we know what we 
really are and can really do, we can afford to keep our temper 
in the face of the world's neglect. Had Haydon formed a 
proper estimate of his powers, and respected himself for pos- 
sessing them, or had Chatterton attained a similar degree of 
insight, neither would have fallen by his own hand. Such men 
as Collingwood and Havelock preserved their equanimity in 
spite of the unjust indifference exhibited to their services, by 
falling back on a reserve fund of self-respect. It was not until 
after months, nay, years of discouragement and disappointment, 
that Thackeray gained a hearing from the public ; but he had 
taken the measure of his intellectual capabilities, and knowing 
what he could do if an opportunity were given to him, waited 
unrepiningly until it came. And so with Wordsworth ; with 
what serene patience he bided his time, content to let critics 
rail and flout, and confident that his poetry would eventually 
reach home to the national heart ! Self-knowledge and self- 
respect are to each struggling combatant in the battle of life 
what Aaron and Hur were to Moses, when but for their support 
his arms would have fallen nerveless to his side, and the victory 
have gone from Israel. Says Bacon finely — " Men seem neither 
to understand their riches nor their strength : of the former, 



"KNOW THYSELF. 



339 



they believe greater things than they should ; of the latter, 
much less." What is wanted is the accurate perception which 
determines its exact proportions, and the manly consciousness 
which refuses to be overborne by arrogance or withered by con- 
tumely. " Self-reliance and self-denial," continues Bacon, 
" will teach a man to drink out of his own cistern, and eat his 
own sweet bread, and to learn and labor truly to get his living, 
and carefully to expend the good things committed to his 
trust." 




CHAPTER IX. 

REASONABLE SERVICE AND TRUE SUCCESS. 

" The very art of struggling is in itself a species of enjoyment ; and every 
hope that crosses the mind, every high resolve, every generous sentiment, 
every lofty aspiration, — nay, every heroic despair, is a gleam of happiness 
that flings its illumination upon the darkest destiny. All these are as essen- 
tially a portion of human life, as the palpable events that serve as landmarks 
to the history ; and all these would have to be computed before we could 
fairly judge of the prevailing character of the career." 

" The talent of success is nothing more than doing what you can do well 
without a thought of fame." — H. W. Longfellow. 

" What shall I do to be for ever known ? 

Thy duty ever ! 
This did full many who yet sleep unknown, — 

Oh, never, never ! 
Think'st thou perchance that they remain unknown 

Whom thou know'st not ? 
By angel trumps in heaven their praise is blown, 

Divine their lot." — Schiller. 

" How must Stephen of Colonna, whom Petrarch loved and reverenced for 
his heroic spirit, have struck dumb with astonishment the base and impotent 
assailants who thought indeed that he was at length in their power, and so 
demanded with an air of triumph, 4 Where is now your fortress ? ' when he 
laid his hand on his breast and answered, ' Here ; and one whose strength 
will laugh a siege to scorn.'" — Kenelm Digby. 




E 



CHAPTER IX. 

REASONABLE SERVICE AND TRUE SUCCESS. 

VERY young man as he stands on the threshold of life, 
preparing to step forward into the vague, uncertain 
future, may take to his heart the trumpet-like words of Saint 
Simon : — " L'age d'or, qu'une aveugle tradition a place jusqu'ici 
dans la passe, est devant nous " — (The golden age, which a 
blind tradition has hitherto placed in the past, is before us). 
What has been possible to our fellows is possible to us, and 
something, perhaps, which never was by them achieved. Hope 
is ours, and love, and truth, and honor ; high aspiration and 
earnest prayer ; the consciousness of a battle well fought and 
a victory well won. The race may be a long one, and the way 
rugged and thorny, but mayhap there are flowers in many a 
bosky nook, and we shall feel, though we may not discern, the 
presence of the angels like a soundless wind on a summer sea. 
We have only to take heart and work. We .know the con- 
ditions of success — diligence and patience, and a firm purpose 
and a lofty aim, self-reliance, courage, self-denial, self-eleva- 
tion. These are within our reach if we submit to the necessary 
discipline. And why should we not ? Is not this life the 
vestibule of eternity, and shall we neglect or despise it as a 



344 REASONABLE SERVICE AND TRUE SUCCESS. 

thing worthless and wearisome ? Do we not know it to be the 
training place of our spiritual nature ? Do we not know that 
the faculties cultivated here will grow into a glorious fruition 
hereafter ? Ah, the nobleness of labor ! How it develops the 
thought, how it braces up the soul, how it crushes back the 
evil impulse ! When we bethink ourselves of the pleasure it 
yields, of the moral elevation which it involves, we are lost in 
wonder at the infatuation of the fools who idly turn from it to 
expend their lives in luxurious indulgence. But when we 
speak of labor we mean something more than the occupation 
of the business day, something more than the toil that properly 
belongs to our respective callings ; we mean that general pro- 
cess of culture by which mind, soul, and body alike are ben- 
efited ; we mean all that assiduous preparation and finish 
which carefully occupies the hours not devoted to amusement 
or repose. Our complex humanity has many sides, all of which 
demand our assiduous vigilance : this vigilance we regard as 
part and parcel of our daily duty. 

In some such sense would labor seem to be regarded by 
Carlyle in a well-known passage : — 

"Two men I honor," he says, "and no third. First, the 
toilworn craftsman that with earth-made implement laboriously 
conquers the earth and makes her man's. Venerable to me is 
the hard hand, crooked, coarse, wherein notwithstanding lies 
a cunning virtue, indefeasibly royal, as if the sceptre of this 
planet. * * * Toil on, toil on ; thou art in thy duty, be out of 
it who may ; thou toilest for the altogether indispensable, for 
daily bread. . 

" A second man I honor, and still more highly : him who is 
seen toiling for the spiritually indispensable, not daily bread, 



NEGLECT OF HEALTH. 345 

but the bread of life. Is not he too in his duty ; endeavoring 
towards inward harmony ; revealing this by act or by word, 
through all his outward endeavors, be they high or low. High- 
est of all, when his outward and his inward endeavors are one ; 
when we can name him artist ; not earthly craftsman only, but 
inspired thinker, who with heaven-made implement conquers 
heaven for us ! " 

Here work is evidently understood as synonymous with duty ; 
and it is the influence of such work in its moral, spiritual, 
intellectual, and even physical relation, which we have been 
anxious to set forth. We have sought to establish that the 
sublimest thing a man can do is to do his duty, whether, like 
the soldiers on board the Birkenhead, he goes down into the 
deep to save the feeble, or whether he sits at the receipt of 
custom unhonored and unknown. But taking work in its more 
common and restricted meaning, as the daily labor by which 
men earn their bread or attain to fame, it becomes neces- 
sary for us, as we draw to a conclusion, to enunciate a caution. 
This, indeed, is implied in our remarks upon duty, which we 
have defined as the culture of intellect, soul and body, — not of 
one, but of all three parts of our tripartite nature. Of intellec- 
tual labor it is possible to have too much. As neglect of the 
body in one sense involves fast living, so neglect of the body in 
another sense induces exhaustion and disease. In both cases 
the effect is the same, and the primary cause is the same. The 
body has its rights, and these, we repeat, cannot be disregarded 
in one way without mortal injury to the soul, or in another 
without fatal mischief to the mind. 

We must be upon our guard against overwork. If we light a 
candle at both ends we may expect to burn it rapidly ; and as 



34-6 REASONABLE SERVICE AND TRUE SUCCESS. 

an overwrought brain tells upon the body, racking the nerves, 
checking the healthy action of the blood and liver, irritating 
the heart, and disturbing the whole organization, it cannot be 
matter of surprise that when one gives way the other should 
also succumb. Then the diseased frame reacts on the enfeebled 
intellect, and the victim, after weeks or months of suffering, 
sinks into a premature grave. Life at the present day is life 
at high pressure. In every sphere of human industry prevails 
a keen competition ; and those who do not press forward are 
surely thrown out of the race. We are bound to an Ixion's 
wheel which is ceaseless in its revolutions. In every profes- 
sion the contest has, in the last few years, grown sharper and 
more tumultuous ; the attack is fiercer ; the fight is hand-to- 
hand ; and the number of those who fall has largely increased. 
Men make haste to get rich, or to keep up " a position," or to 
found an immense business, and hence, in spite of terrible ex- 
amples and constant warnings, they fall victims to overwork. 
They endeavor to get out of brain and body more than brain 
and body can supply. There is a necessary limit to wholesome 
effort, but they foolishly overpass it. 

We do not think that this excess is due in many cases to an 
exaggerated conception of the true aim and end of life. A 
Saturday Reviewer has condemned the worship of work for its 
own sake as almost as pernicious an extreme as the worship 
of idleness. The latter worship has its votaries still, but we 
doubt very much whether the former has many priests or dis- 
ciples. All conscientious minds must be impressed with the 
reasonableness of work, and will recognize that identity between 
work and duty on which we have already enlarged. They will 
feel the necessity of working while it is yet day, and before the 



THE DIFFERENCE OF THE "END." 347 

night cometh when no man can work. But they regard work 
as a means to an end. Such, indeed, we take to be the light 
in which all men regard it. Unless influenced by some strong 
motive, or iron necessity, we strongly doubt whether men 
would incline to a life of industry. On the contrary, we 
suspect that they have an inherent tendency towards a life of 
ease ; that work is as distasteful to them as to Tennyson's 
Lotus Eaters ; and that all of us are prone in our heart of 
hearts to cry — 

" Why are we weighed upon with heaviness, 
And utterly consumed with sharp distress, 
While all things else have rest from weariness ? 
All things have rest : why should we toil alone, 
We only toil, who are the first of things, 
And make perpetual moan ? . . . 
Hateful is the dark blue sky, 
Vaulted o'er the dark blue sea. 
Death is the rest of life ; Ah, why 
Should life all labor be ? " 

We work because necessity, like the Old Man of the Sea en- 
throned on poor Sinbad's shoulder, compels us to it, clings to 
us continually, and will not be denied. It is not the same 
necessity with all of us. It varies according to the worker's 
aim, condition, capabilities. One may be fired with as restless 
a spirit of inquiry as^ossessed Ulysses — 

" Yearning in desire 
To follow knowledge like a sinking star, 
Beyond the utmost bound of human thought." 

Another is impelled by avarice ; a third by love of excitement ; 
a fourth by a fear of poverty ; a fifth by an honest wish to make 
the best use of the talents with which Providence has gifted 
him. Work is "the means" of a Rothschild as of a Kepler; 
of a Ricardo as of a George Grote ; of a Faraday as of a Men- 
delssohn. Only how different the "end "! 



34-8 REASONABLE SERVICE AND TRUE SUCCESS. 

But while contending that men work because they must, and 
not from any natural desire for it, or any source of pleasure in 
it — so far at least as the majority are concerned — we must still 
assert our opinion, that it carries with it a blessing for those 
who enter upon it in a right spirit. We believe, with Hugh 
Miller, that eventually it proves to be in itself a delight and an 
enjoyment. In our conviction it is all that Hugh Miller repre- 
sented it to be — the best of teachers, the noblest of schools ; 
a school in which the spirit of independence is fostered, the 
ability of being useful developed, and the habit of persevering 
effort acquired. It has been said that the greatest productions 
of human genius were written, not for the sake of immortal 
fame, but to provide for some practical need, to supply some 
keenly felt commonplace want. Homer sang, it is suggested, 
partly to kindle the flame of patriotism in the hearts of his 
countrymen, partly to secure the day's food and the night's 
lodging, as he wandered along the shores of the blue Medi- 
terranean. Shakespeare composed his " Hamlet " and his 
" Othello," not for glory, but to " put money in his purse." 
Hooker's great work, the " Ecclesiastical Polity," was a con- 
tribution to the theological conflict of his age. Burke's master- 
piece, with all its wealth of imagery, was intended to protect the 
British constitution from the encroachments of the Revolution- 
ary spirit. And James Watt invented the condensing engine 
because it off ered a prospect of honest gain. All this may be 
true enough ; the motive and the aim may in each case have 
been the motive and the aim suggested ; but who can doubt 
that to each worker his work brought with it a moral and 
mental satisfaction. Had Homer no pleasure in his song ? Was 
Shakespeare conscious of no intellectual ecstasy when embody- 



4 ' EXEGI MONUMENTUM. " 349 

ing in deathless verse the dreams of Hamlet ? Did not Hooker 
rejoice in the logical coherence of the grand argument he was 
building up in his stately prose ? Could Burke pen his glowing 
periods and feel no stir of the heart, no fever of the brain ? 
And had James Watt no gratification in bringing to complete- 
ness his wonderful invention ? 

We are ready to admit that, as a rule, great men are seldom 
conscious of any great impulse, unless a sense of duty may, as 
we think, be fitly and truly so designated. Wellington won the 
battle of Waterloo because it was his duty not to be beaten. 
When the defeat of Napoleon was assured, he exclaimed, 
" Thank God, I have met him ! " and that was all. To return 
to James Watt and his achievement, he completed the condens- 
ing steam-engine because it was the right thing to do, and 
because, as he saw, it would be an improvement on the engine 
previously in use ; but we may be certain that no visions of 
England covered by a network of railways, or of great ships 
crossing the ocean " against wind and tide," ever rose upon his 
imagination. The sculptor of the matchless Apollo Belvidere — 

1 ' The lord of the unerring bow, 
The god of life, and poesy, and light, 
The sun in human limbs arrayed, and brow 
All radiant from his triumph in the fight, " — 

wrought his masterpiece because in no other way could he ex- 
press the ideal beauty which he had conceived, and not from 
a conviction that to all time it would prove the cynosure of 
admiring eyes. We do not say that the desire of fame is never 
an active motive with the world's workers. We know that 
Shakespeare could predict that nothing would outlive his 
powerful rhyme ; and Horace exclaimed, " Exegi monumentum 



350 REASONABLE SERVICE AND TRUE SUCCESS. 

aere perennius ; " and Milton felt that his " Paradise Lost " 
was a work " the world would not willingly let die." But we 
believe it very seldom exercises any direct influence upon 
human labor. We believe that " no man was ever a great man 
who wanted to be one," and that greatness is the unexpected 
result in most instances of long-continued patient toil. At the 
outset the aspirant had no conception of the height to which he 
would ultimately attain. 

Hie Rhodus ; hie salta. Do not wait for a change of circum- 
stances, but take them as they are, and make the best of them. 
" This saying," observes a writer in " Guesses at Truth," 
" which was meant to shame a braggart, will admit of a very 
different and profounder application. Goethe has changed the 
postulate of Archimedes, Give me a standing place, and I will 
move the world, into the precept, Make good thy standing-place, 
and move the world. This is what he did throughout his life. 
So, too, was it that Luther moved the world, not by waiting for 
a favorable opportunity, but by doing his daily work, by doing 
God's will day by day, without thinking of looking beyond. 
We ought not to linger in inaction until Blucher comes up, but, 
the moment we catch sight of him in the distance, to rise and 
charge. Hercules must go to Atlas and take his load off his 
shoulders perforce." 

And it in this spirit that the best work will always be done. 
It is patient and well regulated industry that wins the race, and 
not spasmodic effort ; not violent exertion at the outset, to be 
followed by premature exhaustion before the road to the goal 
has been half accomplished, it is not overwork that wins suc- 
cess, but adequate work. And overwork for what ? To heap 
up money, to^ gain a high social position, to buy houses and 



SIR WALTER SCOTT. 351 

lands ; are these worthy objects for immortal souls ? What 
can be more deplorable than to sacrifice life and love at shrines 
such as these ? What can be more foolish than to substitute, 
for the work that strengthens, invigorates, and cheers, the toil 
that harasses, and tortures, and kills ? When John Leyden, 
poet and scholar, was warned by his physician of the certain 
ruin that would ensue if he persisted in his excessive study, he 
replied, " Whether I am to live or die, the wheel must go round 
to the last. I may perish in the attempt, but if I die without 
surpassing Sir William Jones a hundredfold in Oriental learn- 
ing, let never a tear for me profane the eye of a Borderer." 
Poor, foolish enthusiast ! He fell at thirty-six, and thus de- 
prived himself and the world of many years of useful labor. 
We know of nothing more painful in all literature than Lock- 
hart's narrative of the last days of Sir Walter Scott, who as 
surely killed himself by overwork as any suicide by poison or 
the razor. Writing in January, 1825, the biographer says, 
" Here I must drop the curtain on a scene and period of un- 
clouded prosperity and splendor. The muffled drum is in 
prospect." Thenceforward the beat of that drum grew louder 
and louder. The brain ceased to answer to the demand of the 
strong will. The exhausted intellect could be made to yield 
little more. Work was done, but it was poor work, and it was 
done at frightful cost. An apoplectic attack in February, 1830, 
was the first revenge of overstrained nature. The great novel- 
ist disregarded the warning, and thinking he had recovered his 
health, resumed his task with his old diligence. But, alas, not 
with his old success. How vast the interval between " Old 
Mortality " and " Castle Dangerous ! " Repeated attacks of 
apoplexy or palsy followed, and the poor sufferer was at 



35 2 REASONABLE SERVICE AND TRUE SUCCESS. 

length compelled to lay aside his pen forever. After a voyage 
to Italy, he returned to Abbotsford a paralytic wreck, and in a 
condition of semi-unconsciousness. He was only in his sixty- 
second year when he died, smitten down by overwork. What 
a contrast with the last years of Goethe ! The grand old 
German, though a constant thinker and active toiler, reached 
the age of eighty- three, retaining his intellectual forces unim- 
paired to the very last. Down to within four years of his death 
he continued the publication of his " Kunst und Alterthum." 
He was eighty-one when he received every morning a music- 
lesson. " This consisted in Mendelssohn playing to him for 
an hour pieces by all the great composers in chronological 
order, and then explaining what each had done to further the 
art. All the while he would sit in a dark corner like a Jupiter 
Tonans, with his old eyes flashing fire. At first he would not 
venture on Beethoven at all. But when Felix declared he 
could not help it, and played the first movement of the C 
Minor Symphony, he remarked, ' That causes no emotion ; it 
is only astonishing and grandiose,' '■' and in this way the octo- 
genarian studied and criticised with the keenest perception the 
great works of the greatest masters, incidentally proving that 
labor does not kill, unless it is an excessive, ill-regulated, grind- 
ing, and worrying labor. So, too, Newton was in his eighty-fifth 
year when he died, and yet to the last enioyed those faculties 
entire which had discovered, we might almost say, the secret of 
the universe, and opened up and explored new tracts of science. 
Montesquieu lived a life of unremitting industry, yet he reached 
his sixty-eighth year, and his last words bore witness to the 
soundness of his judgment. " Sir," said the cure who prayed 
by his bedside, " you understand how great God is ? " " Yes,'* 



" OHNE HAST, OHNE EAST." 353 

was the reply; " and how little man is ! " These men acted on 
the principle of the German adage, " Ohne hast, ohne rast," — 
without haste and without rest. Oxenstjerna, the illustrious 
Swedish statesman, whose career contradicted his own maxim 
(" Quantilla prudentia homines regantur "), lived to be eighty- 
one, yet he had never known what idleness meant. Quesnel 
was in his eighty-sixth year when he died, closing by a peaceful 
death a life which had been assiduously devoted to study. We 
might multiply examples until the reader was weary ; but 
enough has been said to show the healthfulness of work, which 
indeed, rescued Cowper from hypochondriacal despondency, 
and preserved the intellect of Burton, the author of the 
" Anatomy of Melancholy." 

Occasionally the man of business is honest, and acknowledges 
that his life is a slavery, that he lives without leisure and with- 
out peace ; but he adds that all this unrelaxing and absorbing 
labor is but temporary ; that as soon as he has earned a com- 
petency, or gained the object he covets, he will gladly slacken 
the reins and moderate his pace. He tells you that he longs 
for rest ; that his harassing toil, and his gnawing anxieties, the 
brain-work which chills his heart, the consuming thoughts that 
dog him to his home, haunt his fireside, and gibber around his 
bed, are endured and endurable only in consideration of a 
future when he will repose under the shade of his own fig-tree. 
But that future never comes. Life slips away while the poor 
fool is dreaming of the time when he will really live. Life glides 
past with the silent flow of a copious stream, and carries with 
it all its opportunities of home-happiness and lettered leisure, 
all its resting-places for calm reflection and quiet thought. To 
such an one how dread will be the Master's question, " What 



354 REASONABLE SERVICE AND TRUE SUCCESS. 

hast thou done with the talents I gave to thee ? " Days and 
nights sacrificed to " business," to " money-getting," to the ac- 
quisition of a fortune, to the maintenance of " appearances," or 
to the gratification of intellectual ambition ; will these be a 
satisfactory answer ? Oh, the pity of it when men are thus led 
astray by a will-o'-the-wisp / which draws them onward and on- 
ward until they sink overwhelmed in a slough of despond ! It 
is seldom that we hear of men overworking themselves for the 
sake of others ; they are impelled to this suicidal career by de- 
sire of fame or greed of gain. " For a hundred men," says Sir 
Arthur Helps, " whose appetite for work can be driven on 
by vanity, avarice, ambition, or a mistaken notion of advancing 
their families, there is about one who is desirous of expanding 
his own nature and the nature of others in all directions, of cul- 
tivating many pursuits, of bringing himself and those around 
him in contact with the universe on many points, of being a 
man and not a machine." 

At the bottom of the overwork-madness lies a mistaken con- 
ception of duty, a false theory of life. We have shown that a 
true sense of duty would render overwork impossible, because 
it engages the worker to pay due attention to his physical health 
and the needs of his soul. In like manner, a right understand- 
ing of the uses and meaning of life presupposes the equal 
cultivation of all our faculties. So live here that ye may live 
hereafter — that is the Christian principle. Sir Henry Taylor 
puts some wise words into the mouth of his hero, Philip von 
Artevelde, when he makes him say — 

" All my life long 
I have beheld with most respect the man 
Who knew himself ,and knew the ways before him, 
And from among them chose considerately, 
And, having chosen, with a steadfast mind 
Pursued his purpose." 



A THEOR Y OF LIFE. 355 

Unquestionably it is well for a man to form his own theory of 
life, adapting it to his means, his circumstances, his capabilities ; 
and when that theory is chosen, success can be attained only 
by a close adherence to it. But oh ! beware that you do not 
deceive yourself, or suffer others to deceive you. Let your 
theory be one of which your conscience approves, of which 
Heaven will approve. Let it not be the money-maker's theory, 
or that of the slave of fashion, or that of the votary of specula- 
tion, or that of the ardent worshipper of little things. Whether 
you are a man of business or a professional man, merchant or 
shopkeeper, soldier or divine, trader or statesman, let your 
theory be the loftiest possible, and live up to it. The higher 
your aim, the higher will be your attainment. " That man has 
had a liberal education," says Professor Huxley, " who has 
been so trained in youth that the body is the ready servant of 
his will, and does with ease and pleasure all the work that as a 
mechanism it is capable of ; whose intellect is a clear, cold / 
logic engine, with all its parts of equal strength, and in smooth 
working order ; ready, like a steam-engine, to be turned to any 
kind of work, and spin the gossamers as well as forge the 
anchors of the mind ; whose mind is stored with a knowledge 
of the great and fundamental truths of nature, and of the laws 
of her operations ; one who, no stern ascetic, is full of life and 
fire, but whose passions are trained to come to heel by a vigor- 
ous will, the servant of a tender conscience ; who has learned 
to love all beauty, whether of nature or art, to hate all vileness, 
and to respect others as himself." Here we have presented 
almost the ideal man, and the writer's theory might seem to out- 
line almost the ideal life. But look into it a little closer, and 
you become aware of a grave defect. Without faith in God, 



356 REASONABLE SERVICE AND TRUE SUCCESS. 

how can any theory of life be complete ? Or how can it win the 
divine satisfaction if in it no place be found for the observance 
of the two great commandments ? The conscience will not be 
tender that is not kept in obedience to God's laws ; and the life 
that ignores them must be as imperfect in practice as in con- 
ception. Says Mr. Aubrey de Vere — 

" God made man's life ; it is a holy thing ! 
What constitutes that life ? The virtues, first ; 
That sisterhood divine, brighter than stars, 
And diverse more than stars, than gems, than blossoms ; 
The virtues are our life in essence. Next, 
Those household ties which image ties celestial ^ 
Lastly, life's blessed sorrows. They alone 
Rehearse the Man of Sorrows ; they alone 
Fit us for life with Him." 

The poet's ideal is a noble one, and if we lived up to it, we 
should face the future with hopeful courage and prayerful con- 
fidence. Contrast it with the ideal indicated in the millionaire 
Girard's favorite maxim (and a man is known by the proverbs 
he repeats !), " Take care of the cents, and the dollars will take 
care of themselves ! " Contrast it with Magliabecchi's, who 
wasted his existence within the four walls of his library. Or 
with Astor's, who used to say that a man wishing to be rich, 
and having saved two thousand dollars, had won half the battle ; 
life to him evidently presenting itself as a game of speculation, 
in which one's whole thoughts should be directed to securing 
the best cards. So Mr. Freedley has laid down as a law that 
habits of business include six qualities : industry, arrangement, 
calculation, prudence, punctuality, and perseverance. Excel- 
lent qualities ; but are these all ? Is not truthfulness necessary, 
nor reverence, nor prayerfulness, nor benevolence ? Surely the 
life-theory of the man of business would be grievously defective 
if it were summed up in the exercise of the ordinary virtues. 



ANOTHER THEORY. 357 

" Are you industrious ! " says Mr. Freedley ; " are you methodi- 
cal ? are you calculating ? are you prudent ? are you punctual ? 
are you persevering ? If so, you possess what is known by the 
familiar term, habits of business. It is not the possession of 
any one of these qualities in perfection, nor the occasional exer- 
cise of them by fits and starts, as it is called, that will constitute 
a man of business ; but it is the possession of them all in an 
equal degree, and their continuous exercise as habits, that 
give reputation and constitute ability." And is nothing more 
needed ? What a counting-house eidolon of life is here 
depicted ! No room, apparently, for charity, for kindly feeling, 
for the sweet humanities and graces of the Christian character. 
The life-theory of the man of business is to be based on a sel- 
fish consideration of selfish interests. Happily our greatest men 
of business have never acted on such a theory. 

We shall be asked, perhaps, in what way the worker may 
combine the preservation of his health with due attention to the 
requirements of his occupation. The answer has been already 
given ; by taking heed of the common laws of health. Brain- 
work must be counteracted by exercise in the open air. No 
attempt must be made to stimulate the jaded system by recourse 
to alcoholic liquor. Nor is any form of excitement other than 
hurtful for an intellect fatigued by constant labor. After all, 
it is easy to find wholesome amusement, such as music or gar- 
dening, a game of cricket in summer, an indoor game in winter.; 
or cheerful talk with friends, or a romp with the children, or an 
hour's perusal of a good novel. For ourselves, we believe that 
change of occupation is a relief and a relaxation. We do not 
recommend enforced idleness ; it wearies and depresses. An 
active mind, accustomed to an industrious employment of its 



35$ REASONABLE SERVICE AND TRUE SUCCESS. 

faculties, is utterly unable to stop thinki?ig. The proper course 
is to divert its energies from its usual pursuit in favor of some 
less absorbing object. Mr. Gladstone and the late Lord Derby, 
when weary with the cares of statesmanship, have found rest 
and recreation in translating Homer. George Stephenson 
turned from the details of railway construction to the cultiva- 
tion of grapes and peaches. Sir John Lubbock, the well-known 
banker, amuses his leisure with speculations on " Prehistoric 
Man." We know an eminent physician who relieves his mind, 
when he is oppressed with the burden of several delicate cases, 
by the perusal of the lighter monthly magazines. And we have 
heard of a profound scholar, who, at the first symptom of brain- 
weariness, rushes off to the theatre. 

How many hours a day may be given with safety to intellec- 
tual labor it is difficult to state. Each man should be able by 
experience, and by careful study of himself, to fix his own limit. 
Much will depend on a man's physical health, much on the 
nature of the occupation, much on a man's reserve of force and 
elasticity of nerve. For authors and journalists, seven hours a 
day seem to us to constitute the maximum, and these should be 
balanced by an equal amount of sleep. But just as we are sure 
that few can go beyond this limit with safety, so are we sure 
that many cannot reach it if the labor be continued day after 
day throughout the year. We shall be told, of course, of what 
is done by statesmen and judges ; but we do not believe that, 
in reality, they give seven hours a day throughout the year to 
the same form of intellectual employment. Their work in- 
volves a constant variety. The statesman goes from his official 
duties to the House, and thence to some reception. He sees 
deputations ; he reads or writes despatches. He enjoys his 



"'DUTY." 359 

vacations at Easter and Whitsuntide, and his holiday by the sea 
or on the moors when Parliament rises. And the same may be 
said of our judges. Yet sometimes they do break down, though 
seasoned, as it were, by long habit ; and the world is called 
upon to mourn the premature deaths of men like Sir George 
Cornewall Lewis and Mr. Justice Willes. 

This part of our subject may fitly conclude with some plain, 
manly words of the late George Dawson : — 

" Is it a man's duty to scrape and rake, to toil and strive, 
to dig and drag all and everything together, so that his children 
shall have so much more than anybody else's children ? 

" Is it a man's duty so to heap up wealth for them as to 
effectually prevent their being useful to the state, useful to 
their generation, useful to their friends, or useful to them- 
selves ? Certainly not. 

" Is it a man's duty to worry and work, to bustle and burn, 
to agonize and fret, to covet and scheme, that he may have his 
name written on the scroll of fame ? 

" The writing in the Lamb's Book of Life gives to that 
question an answer which there is no gainsaying. 

" But, if ' duty ' consist in the doing of appointed work, in 
the humble acts of an humble life, in the commonplace of 
existence, in eating and drinking, in speaking and thinking, in 
rejoicing and sorrowing — then, that duty faithfully done should 
be the preparation for the better doing of further work in this 
world, and in the world to come." 

As to the secret of success in life, different authorities have 
delivered widely differing opinions : sometimes in language as 
oracular and obscure as the Pythian utterances at Delphi ; 
sometimes in words as clear and dogmatic as the rules of 



3^0 REASONABLE SERVICE AND TRUE SUCCESS. 

Lindley Murray. The " secret " as told by, let us say, a Car- 
lyle, is by no means identical with the " secret " as explained 
by, let us say, a Rothschild. The " secret " set before the 
world by the Christian Evangelists is absolutely antagonistic to 
the " secret " expounded by the modern Epicurean. No doubt, 
with the majority of men, a Rothschild's view will carry in- 
finitely greater weight than an Apostle's. Mr. A. T. Stewart, 
the late millionaire of New York, was of opinion that " no 
abilities, however splendid, could command success without in- 
tense labor and persevering application." John Randolph, the 
American statesman, sarcastically remarked that the philoso- 
pher's stone was found in four short words of homely English, 
" Pay as you go ! " Meyer Amschel, the founder of the house 
of Rothschild, declared that the secret of success was embodied 
in the four following rules : — i. " I combined," he says, " three 
profits. I made the manufacturer my customer, and the one I 
bought of my customer ; that is, I supplied the manufacturer 
with raw materials and dyes, on each of which I made a profit, 
and took his manufactured goods, which I sold at a profit, and 
thus combined three profits. 2. Make a bargain at once. Be 
an offhanded man. 3. Never have anything to do with an un- 
lucky man or place. I have seen many clever men who had 
not shoes to their feet. I never act with them. Their advice 
sound very well, but fate is against them ; they cannot get on 
themselves, how can they do good to me ? 4. Be cautious 
and bold. It requires a great deal of boldness and a great deal 
of caution to make a great fortune ; and when you have got it, 
it requires ten times as much wit to keep it." Whether a strict 
observance of these rules would make a man wealthy, we are 
not prepared to say ; but we are sure it would make him selfish. 



MR. EDWARD BAINES. 36 1 

Let us go a little further, however. The Hon. John Freedley's 
secret of success does not seem to us in opposition to our own 
advice. He says : " My observations through life satisfy me 
that at least nine-tenths of those most successful in business 
start in life without any reliance except upon their own heads 
and hands — hoe their own row from the jump." But this may 
be qualified by a caution from Sir Arthur Helps : " Be not 
over-choice in looking out for what may exactly suit you ; 
but rather be ready to adopt any opportunities that occur. 
Fortune does not stoop to take anyone up. Favorable oppor- 
tunities will not happen precisely in the way you imagined. 
Nothing does." It may be that we may learn something from 
the following sketch of a once active and intelligent member of 
Parliament, Mr. Edward Baines, the proprietor of the " Leeds 
Mercury." After receiving an ordinary school education, he 
was apprenticed to a printer, who was stimulated by the excited 
political condition of the country at the epoch of the French 
Revolution to publish a newspaper of liberal views. Young 
Baines, full of energy, and industrious to the core, removed to 
Leeds before the expiration of his apprenticeship in order to 
gain a more thorough knowledge of his craft. He entered the 
town poor and friendless ; but his perseverance and his in- 
tegrity, combined with his political Liberalism, soon made him 
known to men of influence ; and, having commenced business 
on his own account, they assisted him to purchase the " Leeds 
Mercury." This was in the year 1804. It was then a weekly 
paper, with a very limited circulation, and was confined to the 
mere record of local and other intelligence, with a column or 
two of advertisements. No leading articles were given ; and 
it made no pretensions either to guide or represent the opinions 



362 REASONABLE SERVICE AND TRUE SUCCESS. 

of the community. Mr. Baines immediately addressed himself 
to the work of making his paper a medium of sound political 
teaching, and, in spite of all difficulties, he succeeded in estab- 
lishing it on a basis equally wide and permanent. For nearly 
half a century its vigorous support was given to any measure 
which would benefit the condition of the working classes and 
elevate the tone of society. In 1834 the services of its pro- 
prietor and his personal work and independence were recognized 
by his election as member of Parliament for Leeds, and he held 
his seat until 1841, when ill-health compelled him to retire. 
He died in 1848, in his seventy-fifth year. 

A biographical writer says of him : " In his attendance on 
parochial business he was as regular and punctual as in his at- 
tendance on his own business, and the same may be observed 
of all his public duties. Whatever he undertook he followed 
up with heart ; he gave his whole mind to the carrying of it out, 
and his duty was his pleasure. Yet it was never felt that he 
was impatiently driving, still less that what he did was prompted 
by a love of power or influence. No one did more with less 
display. He neither courted prominence nor shrank from it. 
To induce him to work, it was never necessary that he should 
be first horse in the team. Nor were his virtues ever pushed 
to extremes. He was firm without sternness, candid with- 
out rudeness, conciliatory without obsequiousness or finesse, 
methodical without rigor, deliberate without undue .slowness or 
indecision." These are the qualities which ensured Edward 
Baines's prosperity ; and they indicate a course of action and a 
line of conduct infinitely more laudable than that of the founder 
of the house of Rothschild. Baines did not think that self- 
help shut out the idea of benevolence ; that the man who 



PERSEVERANCE. 363 

helped himself was never to help others. Much of his life was 
devoted to the assistance of that class whom Meyer Rothschild 
was fain to pass by — the unlucky. 

When John Hunter was asked to communicate the secret of 
his success, he replied : — " My rule is, deliberately to consider, 
before I commence, whether the thing be practicable. If it be 
not practicable, I do not attempt it. If it be practicable, I can 
accomplish it if I give sufficient pains to it ; and having begun, 
I never stop till the thing is done. To this rule I owe all my 
success." Again, Sir Thomas Fowell Buxton said : — " The 
longer I live, the more I am certain that the great difference 
between men, between the feeble and the powerful, the great 
and the insignificant, is energy, invincible determination, a pur- 
pose well fixed, and then death or victory. That quality will 
do anything that can be done in this world, and no talents, no 
circumstances, no opportunities, will make a two-legged creature 
a man without it." After all, at the bottom of these various 
counsels, we seem to see one great underlying principle, that of 
perseverance, which, of course, is identical with energy and in- 
dustry. When Napoleon was asked by the Czar Alexander to 
what he attributed his marvellous good fortune, he answered — 
" To perseverance in pursuing it." Benjamin Franklin's advice 
was generally low-toned, but it was always practical, and it 
would be difficult to utter more sound sense on any subject 
than he has put into the mouth of " Poor Richard " on this 
subject. " ' Industry, and not wish,' " he says, " ' and he that 
lives upon hope will die fasting. There are no gains without 
pains ; then help hands, for I have no lands, or, if I have, they 
are smartly taxed.' ' He that hath a trade hath an estate ; and 
he that hath a calling hath an office of profit and honor,' as 



364 REASONABLE SERVICE AND TRUE SUCCESS. 

poor Richard says ; but then the trade must be worked at, and 
the calling well followed, or neither the estate nor the office 
will enable us to pay our taxes. If Ave are industrious, we 
shall never starve ; for, ' at the working-man's home hunger 
looks in, but does not enter.' Nor will the bailiff or the con- 
stable enter ; for ' industry pays debts, while despair increaseth 
them.' What though you have found no treasure, nor has any 
rich relation left you a legacy, ' diligence is the mother of good 
luck, and God gives all things to industry. Then plough deep 
while sluggards sleep, and you shall have corn to sell and to 
keep.' Work while it is called to-day, for you know not how 
much you may be hindered to-morrow. ' One to-day is worth 
two to-morrows,' as poor Richard says ; and further, ' never 
leave that till to-morrow which you can do to-day.' If you 
were a servant, would you not be ashamed that a good master 
should catch you idle ? Are you then your own master ? Be 
ashamed to catch yourself idle, when there is so much to be 
done for yourself, your family, your country, and your king. 
Handle your tools without mittens ; remember that ' the cat in 
gloves catches no mice,' as poor Richard says. It is true there 
is much to be done, and perhaps you are weak-handed ; but 
stick to it steadily, and you will see great effects ; for ' constant 
dropping wears away stones ; and by diligence and patience the 
worm ate in two the cable ; and little strokes fell great oaks.' " 
All this worldly wisdom, however, may be summed up in 
Josiah Wedgwood's eleventh commandment : — " Thou shalt not 
be idle." 

Lord Lytton writes, — and here we may remark that almost 
all the heroes of this novelist, are very models or patterns of 
perseverance, — " There lives not a man on earth out of a 



WORK AND WAIT. 365 

lunatic asylum, who has not in him the power to do good. 
What can writers, haranguers, or speculators do more than that ? 
Have you ever entered a cottage, ever travelled in a coach, 
ever talked with a peasant in the field, or loitered with a 
mechanic at the town, and not found that each of these men 
had a talent you had not, knew some things you knew not ? 
The most useless creature that ever yawned at a club, or 
counted the vermin on his rags under the sun of Calabria, has 
no excuse for want of intellect. What men want is not talent, 
it is purpose ; in other words, not the power to achieve, but 
the will to labor" 

Do not think, O reader, that success in life is to be won by 
any spell or charm which dispenses with the necessity of work. 
Do not believe that the Barings, and the Gurneys, and the 
Childs, and the Cunards, have possessed any magic formula for 
discovering the philosopher's stone. Put to each of these the 
question, " How did you get on in the world ? " or " How shall 
I get on the world ? " and though the answers may differ in 
words, they will be identical in substance. There is no royal 
road to success. The temple of Fortune is accessible only by 
a steep, rugged, and difficult path, up which you must drag 
yourself, like pilgrims up the Scala Santa of Rome, on your 
knees. The ascent must be foot by foot, nay, inch by inch ; 
and will test your powers of patience and endurance to the 
uttermost. Said one man to another, " I wish I was as lucky 
as you are." " You mean," was the reply, " as willing to work 
and wait." We may be reminded of Caesar's speech to the 
pilot in the storm, " Ccesarem portas et fortunam ejus." Aye, 
and so the pilot did ; for Caesar's fortune was in himself, in his 
capacity, his force of character, his resistless energy, his deter- 



366 REASONABLE SERVICE AND TRUE SUCCESS. 

mination to be foremost. Napoleon's belief in his star did not 
prevent him from carefully planning the details of his campaigns, 
and devoting all his powers to the accomplishment of any 
object he had in view. 

But we have written this volume in order to unfold the Secret 
of Success, and we shall have written in vain if by this time the 
reader have not grasped it. To our thinking it is a secret 
easily guessed — a secret which the life of every great and good 
man reveals ; neither less nor more than " doing one's duty." 
But though the secret be so simple, it is by no means easily 
applied. We may know it thoroughly, and yet not profit by it, 
like the magicians who professed to have discovered the secret 
of immortal life, and died in the flush of manhood ! Is there 
anything harder than doing one's duty ? What a demand 
it makes upon all our faculties ! How we must be content to 
strive, and bear, and insist ; to submit to the sternest self- 
discipline, to practise the most rigorous self-reliance ! and after 
all, we shall fail — fail egregiously — unless we enter on the task 
in humble imitation of the example of Christ, and with a strong 
resolve to walk in His footsteps. 

Here, however, another question forces itself upon our con- 
sideration. We have said much about the " secret " of success ; 
but what do we mean by " success ? " The phrase, " success in 
life," has a very different signification for different minds. To 
one it represents a large account at his banker's ; to another, a 
comfortable estate, enclosed in its own " ring fence ; " to 
another, a high place in society ; to yet . another, a title or an 
office ; and to a fifth, the trumpet-voice of fame. It will be 
modified also by the measure of our aspirations and our sense 



MONE Y- GE T TING. 3^7 

of our opportunities. So that success in life, to some will be 
embodied in the poet's modest ambition — 

"' I often wish that 1 had clear 
For life, three hundred pounds a year ; " 

to others it will not fall short of a capital of a quarter of a 
million. We suppose that by nine men out of ten it is identi- 
fied, in some way or other, and in a large or limited sense, with 
money-getting. Now, we do not profess the assumption of a 
tone of extravagant morality, and we shall not pour upon 
money- getting a flood of indiscriminate censure. On this 
point we have already hazarded our opinion. It is right 
enough and honorable enough for a man to covet an independ- 
ent position, such as only money can secure. Money as an end 
is a serious evil, as a mea?is to an end it is a splendid good. Of 
course Diogenes despised money ; but then you and I, reader, 
despise Diogenes. We do not think it a good thing to live in a 
tub, or a great thing to wear a cloak with more holes in it than 
substance. God forbid that we should work for money alone, 
for money as the great aim and object of life ; but God forbid 
that we should stoop to the pride of humility which rails at it 
as dross, and pretends that true happiness lies in the lap of 
poverty. It seems to us very commendable in a young man to 
resolve upon earning a competence, if he can make up his 
mind as to what is a competence, and to keep his desires under 
stringent control. But for a man who gives up his nights and 
days, his heart and soul, to the acquisition of a larger fortune 
than his neighbors, we feel the most supreme contempt. The 
man whose aspirations point to money, and his thoughts to 
money, and his teelings to money, and his affections to money, 
may God forgive, for he will have need of forgiveness ! 



3^8 REASONABLE SERVICE AND TRUE SUCCESS. 

Is it good to strive for success ? We will answer this question 
by another, Is a man happier for failure ? Is he morally or in- 
tellectually better ? No : if we do our work with all our heart, 
and all our mind ; and all our strength, we have a right to hope 
that it will meet with its due reward. If Palissy, after all his 
trials, after all his sacrifices, had not succeeded in discovering 
the secret of enamelled ware, would not his life, from his own 
point of view, have been irrecoverably wasted ? That is it ; 
failure generally means waste — waste of time, and effort, and 
hope ; and human life can afford no such waste. And the 
soul, smarting with the sense of this vain expenditure, is apt to 
conceive of the world a gloomy picture, which shadows all its 
enjoyments, represses its aspirations, weakens its energies. In 
its disconsolateness it exclaims — 

>; This world, which seems 
So various, so beautiful, so new, 
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light, 
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain ; 
And we are here as on a darkling plain 
Swept with confused alarm of struggle and fight. 
"Where ignorant armies clash by night ! " 

Whereas the world is really a very pleasant world, with sweet 
odors all about it, and the sound of music ringing through its 
garden-bloom, and a grateful interchange of starry night and 
sunny day — a world to be grateful for, and to be moderately 
happy in, and to accept thankfully as the vestibule to a world 
yet brighter and more beautiful, because everlasting. It is not 
good to fall into a mood of discouragement and despondency, 
and therefore it is not good to fail. It is sad to feel, under 
any circumstances, but more especially when we have done our 
best, that our bark has been wrecked with her voyage only 
half-accomplished ; to see others gliding past us with banners 



HALF-HEAR TEDNESS. 369 

streaming and canvas swelling, while we lie shattered and help- 
less on the shore. " Philosophy or religion may take the sting 
out of disappointment ; but generally the impossibility of con- 
necting the ideas of felicity and failure is so great, that though 
examples abound to show that success is not happiness, it is yet 
clear that it is essential to it. The moments in a man's life 
when, Alexander-like, he feels that the world has no more 
prizes to be coveted, are few indeed. It has been truly said 
that an object to be desired is at once the pleasure and the tor- 
ment of life ; sometimes a great object to be steadily pursued, 
all else being made subservient to it — or, more commonly, a 
succession of minor objects, rising, one after another, in sudden 
succession. If Keats did somewhat exaggerate when he de- 
clared that ' there is no fiercer hell than the failure in a great 
attempt ; ' yet it must be admitted that the pleasure of a long- 
sought, ardently desired success, dreamed of by night and 
toiled for by day, is probably as complete as anything this side 
of heaven, and it is universally felt to be a compensation for all 
toil or hardship ; it is well also, if for every sin." 

But, again, we say that this book has been written for the 
purpose of making known to our readers the Secret of Success. 
We have told them the secret, and we venture to assert that, if 
they conscientiously act upon it, there will be no failure. The 
treasure-cave must necessarily throw wide its door to him who 
knows the magical " Open Sesame." Only there must be no 
half-heartedness. There can be no cure unless the patient has 
faith in the remedy, no success unless the worker make honest 
use of the secret. The diligence must not be perfunctory, the 
perseverance must not be simulated, the energy must not be 
intermittent, the self-help must not be unreal, or the secret will 



37° REASONABLE SERVICE AND TRUE SUCCESS 

lose its efficacy. In a well-known couplet Addison says 
sententiously — 

" It is not in mortals to command success, 
But we'll do more, Sempronius, we'll deserve it." 

Not so ; if Sempronius deserves success, he will surely achieve 
it. But then the all-important question recurs, What is success ? 
We have suggested the various answers given to it by various 
minds — money, rank, influence, and the like ; — only, none of 
these answers seem to meet the requirements of our position 
logically. Cannot there be success even if a man do not 
acquire " a fortune," or secure " a baronetcy," or gain admis- 
sion among the upper ten thousand ? Is there no other, no 
higher, no truer success ? And may not that which the world 
calls failure be a very real and true success after all ? Is it not 
true what the poet sings — 

'* The virtue lies 
In the stiuggle, not the prize ?" 

Though the prize should pass to others, may not we have suc- 
ceeded, or succeeded in all we attempted, all we desired ? 
When Montgolfier launched his balloon it did not reach the 
stars, but its inventor had, nevertheless, succeeded ; he had 
shown that aerostation was possible. Milton completed his 
" Paradise Lost," and a bookseller gave him some fifteen pounds 
for the copyright. Had he failed ? Had he not clothed him- 
self in the singing-robes of immortality ? We grant that if a 
man intend to make ^"100,000, and make only ^10,000, he has 
been guilty of a failure ; but, then, why did he not at the out- 
set fix his hopes upon the ;£ 10,000, and succeed ? 



FRANCES HORNER. 37 1 

We imagine that the unthinking would pronounce the career 
of Francis Horner a failure, for he died at thirty-eight without 
having attained to high office or written a magnum opus. But 
was it so ? What does Lord Cockburn say of it ? " The light 
in which it is calculated to inspire every right-minded youth is 
this : he died at the age of thirty-eight " — true, and alas ! but — 
"' possessed of greater public influence than any other private 
man, and admired, beloved, trusted, and deplored by all except 
the heartless or the base. No greater homage was ever paid in 
Parliament to any deceased member. Now, let every young 
man ask, How was this attained ? By rank ? He was the son 
of an Edinburgh merchant. By wealth ? Neither he nor any 
of his relatives ever had a superfluous sixpence. By office ? 
He held but one, and only for a few years, of no influence, and 
with very little pay. By talents ? His were not splendid, and 
he had no genius ; cautious and slow, his only ambition was to 
be right. By eloquence ? He spoke in calm good taste, with- 
out any of the oratory that either terrifies or seduces. By any 
fascination of manner ? His was only correct and agreeable. 
By what, then, was it ? Merely by sense, industry, good prin- 
ciples, and a good heart — qualities which no well-constituted 
mind need ever despair of attaining. It was the force of his 
character that raised him, and this character not impressed up- 
on him by nature, but formed out of no peculiarly fine elements 
by himself. Horner was born to show what moderate powers, 
unaided by anything whatever except culture and goodness, 
may achieve, even when these powers are displayed amidst the 
competition and jealousy of public life." 

Now Horner we should call a successful man, though at 
thirty- eight came — 



37 2 REASONABLE SERVICE AND TRUE SUCCESS. 

" The blind Fury with the abhorred shears 
And slit the thin-spun life." 

He had done all he aimed at doing because he had not aimed 
at too much. Let us contrast with him a very different charac- 
ter, the brilliant Bolingbroke — Pope's " Henry St. John " — at 
one time Queen Anne's Secretary of State, and the author of 
some books of permanent renown. We adopt, with compres- 
sion and modification, Lord Lytton's elegant sketch of his 
career : — 

"In this English Alcibiades," he says, "what restless, but 
rich vitality ! We first behold him, like his Athenian prototype, 
bounding into life, a beautiful, ambitious youth, seizing on 
notoriety as a substitute for fame ; audacious in profligate ex- 
cess — less, perhaps, from the riot of the senses, than from a wild 
joy in the scandal which singles him out for talk. Still but a 
stripling, he soon wrenches himself from so ignoble a ruption 
of the desire for renown. He disappears from the haunts that 
had rung with the turbulent follies of a boy ; he expends his 
redundant activity in travel, and learns the current language of 
Europe to so nice a perfection, that, in later life, Voltaire him- 
self acknowledges obligations to his critical knowledge of 
French." 

Returning to England, he entered Parliament at the age of 
twenty-two, and almost immediately secured recognition as an 
orator of transcendant powers. Lord Chesterfield, himself one- 
of the most accomplished of public speakers, and doing full 
justice to Chatham, to whom he ascribes " eloquence of every 
kind," still distinguishes Bolingbroke as the perfect orator. 
And that Chatham accepted as. truthful the traditions of his 
precursor's oratorical power is evident from his saying, that he 



BOLINGBROKE. 373 

would rather rescue from oblivion Lord Bolingbroke's unre- 
ported speeches than Livy's lost books. 

In the political warfare that then convulsed the Legislature, 
Bolingbroke espoused the side of Harley, and quickly made 
himself of so much consequence as an ally, that, in 1704, when 
Harley became Secretary of State, Henry St. John became 
Secretary of War. He held office until 1708, when he and 
Harley were forced to retire by the influence of Marlborough 
and Godolphin. In 17 10, through a series of intrigues which 
form a curious chapter in English political history, Harley re- 
turned to power as head of the Government, and St. John be- 
came a Secretary of State. Two years later he was called to 
the House of Peers by the. title of Viscount Bolingbroke. Then 
he began to plot against Harley — who had been created Earl of 
Oxford — for the first place, and after a two years' struggle, suc- 
ceeded, with the help of Mrs. Masham, in expelling Harley. 
At the same time he was conspiring to recall the Stuart dynasty 
to the throne, when the death of the Queen suddenly baffled 
his ambition. 

" The councillor of Queen Anne is denounced as a traitor to 
King George. What a scene for some high-bred novelist might 
be laid in the theatre itself, the night in which Bolingbroke 
vanished from the town he had dazzled and the country he had 
swayed ! The playhouse is crowded — all eyes turn to one box ; 
there sits serene the handsome young statesman whom, says 
Prior, ' Men respect and women love.' 

" Curious tongues whisper. But what* is really the truth ? 
Is there any proof against him ? It is said the articles of im- 
peachment are already drawn up, the Whigs are resolved to 
have his head. Tut ! impossible ! See how gaily he smiles at 



374 REASONABLE SERVICE AND TRUE SUCCESS. 

this moment. Who has just entered his box ? — An express ? 
Tut ! only the manager. My Lord has bespoken the play for 
to-morrow night.' 

" The curtain falls — falls darkly on an actor greater than any 
Burbage or Betterton that ever fretted his hour on the mimic 
stage. Where behind the scenes has my Lord disappeared ? 
He is a fugitive on the sea. Axe and headsman are baffled. 
Where next does my Lord reappear? At the playhouse in 
Paris. All eyes there, as in London, are fixed on the handsome 
young statesman. And lo ! even there, he is Minister of State 
— distrusted, melancholy Minister of a crownless and timid 
Pretender ! He who gave Europe the Peace of Utrecht, he 
who had supplied ammuiiition and arms to Marlborough, is an 
exile in the court of the Bourbon, or rather in the mimic court 
of the Bourbon's pensioner, and plotting a buccaneer's foray 
on the shores of disdainful England." 

The Pretender soon dismissed from his service a statesman 
whose courageous genius was a constant reproach to his 
cowardice. Retiring to a secluded chateau, he there composed 
a remarkable vindication of his political life, in a " Letter to 
Sir William Windham," which was not published until a year 
after his death. Weary of exile, he endeavored to obtain per- 
mission to return to England, and at last succeeded, through a 
heavy bribe paid to the Duchess of Kendal, the King's German 
mistress (1723). In 1725 he was restored to his title and estates, 
but was not allowed to take his seat in the House of Lords. 
The Ministry feared the effects of his eloquence. He sought 
compensation for this enforced silence in the columns of the 
periodical press, and some of the bitterest attacks upon the 
policy of Walpole "proceeded from his pen. In 1735 he again 



REASONABLE SERVICE. 375 

left England, and remained abroad for a second period of seven 
years, finally returning in 1742. After the fall of Walpole it 
seemed probable for a time that he might reappear on the 
political stage. The prospect, however, was soon clouded over, 
the infirmities of age told rapidly on the intellect once so keen 
and the energy once so irrepressible ; and having outlived his 
generation and his influence, he died on the 15th of December, 
175 1, in the seventy-fourth year of his age, leaving to posterity 
the memorable example of a brilliant failure, and tne lesson 
taught by the career of an unsuccessful man. Had Bolingbroke 
attempted less he would have achieved more, and the biographer 
would have had no occasion to lament over the misfortunes of 
disappointed ambition and undisciplined genius. 

To be successful in life, therefore, we must choose our 
object wisely. It must be one within the range of our means 
and opportunities. It must be one which we have reasonable 
hope of attaining. The laughter would be just with which we 
should receive the proposal of a cripple to compete in a 
two-mile race. The laughter would be just if a shoe-black an- 
nounced his intention of amassing, before he died, a fortune of 
half a million. It is better to aim at nothing which comes 
fairly within the definition of the impossible. Nor is it our 
duty to attempt any work which we cannot hope to perform. 
All that the Divine Master expects of us is " reasonable ser- 
vice," work proportioned to our powers, and within our limits 
of accomplishment. It will thus be seen that success depends 
on the observance of certain conditions, and that if these be 
neglected the " secret " will not and cannot apply. Even if the 
key be given to us by a magician, it will not open a lock too 
large for it! The "Open Sesame" which threw wide the 



37^ REASONABLE SERVICE AND TRUE SUCCESS. 

portals of the treasure-cave to Ali Baba would not have given 
him admission to any other. We have defined the Secret of 
Success as the performance of our duty with all those resources 
of mind, body, and soul we have received from the Creator. 
But if we go beyond the scope of our duty, if we undertake 
responsibilities which lie outside our proper path, we must ex- 
pect, for we shall deserve, ignominious failure. 

It is no infrequent thing to see men gifted with only ordinary 
talents walking in the primrose way of success, when genius is 
vainly attempting to scale the rugged precipices of the hill of 
difficulty. How often we hear it said, " Who would have 
thought that Mr. A. would have done this or that ! I had no 
idea he was so very clever ! " Nor is he ; it is no matter for 
wonder ; he has prospered because he has been prudent enough 
to undertake nothing beyond his reach. If a man can ride one 
horse tolerably well, he will perform his journey in safety ; but 
if he aspire to emulate the skill of the heroes of the circus, and 
insist upon riding two horses at once, he will assuredly come 
to the ground with broken bones. Yet it is individuals of this 
class, with ambitions larger than their means, and judgment 
smaller than their imagination, who turn with the greatest 
eagerness to books upon " Self-Help,' " Practical Treatises 
upon Business," " Young Men's Manuals," and the like. They 
want a talisman to secure good luck, a charm or spell which 
will make them masters of fortune without labor or effort. 
They will pooh-pooh the simple explanation of the secret of 
success which is offered and illustrated in these pages. Their 
conviction remains that wealth (for of such men wealth is the 
sole object) is to be procured by means of wonderful chances 
or lucky speculations, the mystery of which has been mastered 



" THE HEIGHT OF BLISS." 2>77 

by the Rothschilds, Astors, Barings, and Stewarts cf the world. 
Poor fools ! Why will they seek to soar without wings ? Why 
not be content with the practicable ? 

It is strange that men should so invariably associate the idea 
of money with the idea of getting on. For one adventurer who 
strives to " make a name," there are a hundred who yearn to 
" make money." We have already said that to endeavor to 
earn a competency is in itself by no means censurable ; but 
surely this constant worship of money is a bad sign of our 
social condition. Is there no other success worth striving for ? 
Is it the greatest of all human blisses to become the owner of 
" a fortune," to possess a house in Belgravia, and another in 
the country, a carriage, a cellar of old wines, and a gallery of 
nice pictures ? What says Mr. Swinburne ? — ■ 

■' What is gold worth, say, 
Worth for work or play, 
Worth to keep or pay, 
Hide or throw away, 

Hope about, or fear ? 
What is love worth, pray ? 

Worth a tear ! 

" Golden on the mould, 
See the dead leaves rolled, 
Of the wet woods old, 
Yellow leaves and cold, 

Woods without a dove ; 
Gold is worth but gold, 

Love's worth love." 

To our thinking, the love of wife and children, the gratitude 
of hearts relieved and brightened by our sympathy, the enjoy- 
ments of a cultivated mind, the consciousness of duty done, are 
the chief components of that success which the wise man will 
labor to achieve. Let us leave, O friend, the worship of gold 
to others ! Not for us, " the woods without a dove," the 



37$ REASONABLE SERVICE AND TRUE SUCCESS. 

world lying sere and drear in the shadow of the altar of Mam- 
mon. We must not overlook one serious evil in connection 
with the choice of an unworthy object in life — that it neces- 
sarily tends to lower us to its own level The man who makes 
money his sole end and aim will speak money, think money, 
dream money. We do not despise riches ; and if they come to 
a man naturally and lawfully in the honest performance of his 
duty, he will do well to take care of them, and to remember 
what admirable use he may make of them ; but we are sure 
that riches should never be the "success " sought by a true, a 
pure, and an elevated mind. 

In connection with the practical application of the Secret of 
Success, two or three considerations still remain to be noticed. 
And, first, as every man has a duty to discharge, and the way 
and means of discharging it, let no one complain that success 
is not for him. Too often we meet with stragglers by the way- 
side who seek to excuse themselves by the pretence that in the 
ranks of the great army of workers no places could be found. 
They have never sought their places ; they have allowed the 
serried columns to march past without attaching themselves to 
any flag. These are the men who sigh that trade, and the pro- 
fessions, and art, and literature, are " over-stocked ; " that the 
feast is not large enough for all who would be partakers of it ; 
that the stage is too crowded for even a supernumerary to find 
standing-room. Tut, tut ! The world is wide enough for 
every brave heart who asks nothing more than to do its duty. 
It must be so. It is not more certain that every star has its 
place in the harmonious order of the universe than that every 
man has his proper work to accomplish in the economy of life. 
If he do not find it — that is, if he will not find it — let him not 



OPPOR TUN IT Y. 3 79 

blame the fates, but his own indolence and apathy, or his ill- 
regulated ambition, his dilatoriness or his imprudent haste. A 
man's work lies always close at hand. No wonder that he 
misses it if he persist in turning away to the right or the left, 
climbing up inaccessible hills and plunging into unfathomable 
morasses. We have heard some men lament with intense 
bitterness, and apparently with perfect sincerity, that they have 
been born into the world too late. We suppose that they would 
have written " Hamlet " before Shakespeare, or discovered the 
steam-engine before James Watt. Nonsense ! The present is 
our time, not the past or future ; and the question of all ques- 
tions is, What shall we do with it ! 

* Stay, stay the present instant ; 
Imprint the marks of wisdom on its wings ! 
Oh, let it not elude thy grasp, but, like 
The good old patriarch upon record, 
Hold the fleet angel fast until he bless thee ! " 

It may be accepted as a proposition capapable of irrefragable 
demonstration, that the men who fail now would have failed in 
the past and would fail in the future, because they are the men 
who do not see their duty, or, seeing it, do not perform it. 

Secondly, We sometimes read about " starting-points in life," 
about " opportunities," and the necessity of being on the alert 
to avail ourselves of them. " Here is your chance," people 
say ; if you miss it, do not think that, like the swallow, it will 
reappear. We do not believe in chance, nor in starting-points, 
nor in opportunities, except in this sense, that at particular 
times our duty may be put before us in a special and con- 
spicuous manner. " Seizing our opportunity," when carefully 
examined into, means nothing more than seizing an occasion 
of doing our duty. It is true, therefore, to some extent, that 



3 SO REASONABLE SERVICE AND TRUE SUCCESS. 

to every man his opportunity comes once in his life, and that 
if he permit it to glide by it will never return ; because it is 
certain that, if we once neglect any obvious duty, we shall 
never again be in a position to retrieve the laches. But do not 
let the reader sit down by the wayside and wait for his " oppor- 
tunity," as for some miraculous boon to descend suddenly and 
unexpectedly from the blue heavens above him. Energy 
makes its own opportunities, because energy is always prompt 
to detect and ready to execute the work that has to be done. 
An engine-driver in charge of a crowded train saw lying across 
the rails at some distance in front of him a piece of timber 
which menaced his freight with wounds and death. Quick as 
thought he crept along the side of the engine, and leaning for- 
ward, by a supreme effort swung the log out of the way just as 
the iron wheels were upon it. He risked his life, but he did 
his duty. Afterwards he was rewarded with promotion and 
handsome gifts ; he had found his opportunity, his starting- 
point, his chance. Yes ; but it was in doing his duty that he 
found it. "There are things," says Goethe, "which you do 
not notice only because you do not look at them ; " and so 
there are duties which we never recognize because we will not 
look for them. It is related of a Mr. Godfrey, Governor of the 
Bank of England, that he made his appearance on the battle- 
field of Waterloo. The Duke of Wellington remonstrated with 
him on the danger he was incurring. The gentleman answered 
that the Duke himself ran an equal risk. " Yes," said the 
Duke, "but I am doing my duty. He had scarcely spoken 
when a ball struck the rash intruder dead. There was no 
glory in his death ; it was a melancholy failure. He was out- 
side the sphere of his duty. The opportunity at Waterloo was 



DUTY. 38l 

not for him, but for the Duke and the men who conquered 
with him. " Though a battle," said Napoleon, " may last a 
whole day, there are generally some ten minutes in which its 
issue is practically decided." And so, though a life may last 
fifty, or sixty, or seventy years, there is always a moment when 
our duty is clearly presented to us, and according as we seize or 
neglect it, will be our success or failure Only let us not be led 
astray by any fancied " opportunity," any imaginary " chance." 
Let us, like the Duke of Wellington, before we enter the thick 
of the fire, be sure that duty calls us thither. To quote Goethe 
again — " We are not born to solve the problem of the universe / 
but to find out what we have to do, and to confine ourselves 
within the limits of our power of comprehension," — and, we 
may add, of action. Our duty plainly is, not to attempt what 
we cannot complete : not to thrust ourselves forward into 
positions which we cannot fill : — 

" They also serve who only stand and wait." 

Failure is certain if we allow ourselves to be deluded by the 
mirage of an imaginary opportunity. 

And, lastly, if we would turn to advantage the Secret of 
Success, if we would not miss our duty, we must be careful to 
cultivate not only our physical and mental faculties, not only 
those admirable business habits on which our parents and 
guardians wisely enlarge, but the higher moral faculties. On 
this point a few remarks have been made in a preceding 
chapter ; but it seems desirable to enforce it upon the reader 
emphatically and solemnly, before our pen inscribes at the 
bottom of the page the melancholy word " Finis." In a book 
now lying before us, the following " business qualities " are care- 



382 REASONABLE SERVICE AND TRUE SUCCESS. 

fully enumerated : — Integrity, enterprise, energy, perseverance, 
courage, shrewdness, punctiliousness, prudence, ambition, grati- 
tude, benevolence, generosity, and economy. Well, we have 
already commented upon Mr. Freedley's " six " business quali- 
ties, and the qualities conspicuous by their absence. In this 
more extended list is not the reader sensible of omissions ? 
Does he not look in vain for these three Christian graces, faith, 
hope, and charity ? Benevolence and generosity, it is true, are 
included ; but we refer to that broader benevolence, that loftier 
generosity, the Christian ideal of charity, which extends its 
sympathies to the sinner as well as to the sufferer, and gives its 
hand to the man who fails as well as to the pauper. " Among 
the Greeks," says Lord Lytton, " the charities were synonymous 
with the graces. Admitted into the heathen religion, their task 
was to bind and unite ; their attribute was the zone, without 
which even love lacked the power to charm. ' Without the 
graces,' says Pindar, ' the gods do not move either in the 
chorus or the banquet ; they are placed near Apollo.' Pre- 
scribed to us by a greater creed than the heathen's, they retain 
their mission as they retain their name. It is but a mock 
charity which rejects the zone. Wherever the true and heaven- 
harmonizer struts into the midst of discord, it not only appeases 
and soothes as charity — it beautifies, commands, and subjugates 
as grace." 

The influence of charity is essential to the peace and pros- 
perity of human life. But not less essential is the influence of 
hope, which supports us in the hour of trial and darkness, and 
encourages us with the promise of a golden dawn ; or that of 
faith, which enables us to endure in calmness, and adds con- 
viction to the sanguineness of hope. Unless we had hope for 



FINIS. 3^3 

ourselves, our fellows, our race, unless we had faith in humanity 
and in the Divine benediction which attends it in the future, 
how could we bear the burden and the mystery of this unin- 
telligible life ? Let us believe and hope, so that we may do our 
duty patiently and gladly. Let us believe and hope, so that 
out of the apparent failure which the world derides we may 
gain that success which Heaven blesses. Let us believe and 
hope, so that we may bear uncomplainingly the burden of to- 
day, looking forward with calm, clear vision to the rest of 
to-morrow. Let us believe and hope in the sure and certain 
conviction of the utility of virtues for which there is no earthly 
reward, of the grandeur of duties which are not enforced by 
any human law, of the nobleness of the impulse to deeds which 
annihilate even the care for self-preservation, and conduct to 
noble, yet perhaps to fameless graves, thus invigorating and 
recruiting the life of races by millions of " crownless martyrs 
and unrewarded heroes." Oh, cultivate the virtues of charity, 
faith, and hope, and so will you learn to apply, with the ap- 
proval of God and His angels, and to the eternal happiness of 
yourself and your brothers, the Secret of Success ! 



FINIS. 



INDEX 



Abbott, Charles (See Lord Ten- 
terden.) .... 

Accuracy, habits of 
Adams, J. Quincey anecdotes 



164 



of ... 


47, 


97 


Addison, quoted 




246 


" Age, the Golden " 


. 


343 


Aim in life, our 


, 


23 


Ainsworth, Robert . 




IOI 


Alley, Saul . 


. 


77 


Angelo, Michael 


62, 


255 


Arnauld, quoted 




99 


Arnold, Mathew 


39, 


303 


Arnold, Dr. quoted 




85 


Astor, J. J. 


170, 


209 


Astor, William 




214 


Athletic habits of the En 


jlish, 


258 


Austen, Miss, quoted 




99 


Avarice .... 


• 


193 


B 






Bacon, quoted 


107, 


338 


Bailey, P. J. . 


. 


361 


Baines, Edward, 




273 


Baker, Mr. 




180 


Barclay, Robert 


. 


232 


Barclays, the . 




230 


Beaconsfield, Lord . 


264, 


274 


Beecher, H. W. 




253 


Benevolence, the, of business 




men .... 




245 


Bentham, Jeremy, quoted 




133 


Bible, the, study of 


. 


280 


Blake, William 




27 


Boswell and Dr. Johnson 




267 



Brassey, Thomas 
Bronte, Charlotte . 
Brougham, Lord . . 54 

Brown, Dr. John, quoted 150 
Brown, Sir W., quoted . 
Browning, Robert . 
Bunyan, John, his career 
Buxton, Sir T. Fowell, quoted 
38, 62, 57, 121 
Bolingbroke, Lord, career of 
Burns, Robert 
Burritt, Elihu . 
Bussey, William, of Boston, 
Business, dignity of 
Business habits 
Business, the romance of 
" Business Rhetoric" 
Business men, some distin 
guished 



Calhoun, Mr., quoted 
Campbell, Lord 
Campbell, Sir Colin 

Clyde) 
Canning, George 
Carlyle, Thos. 101, quoted 
Cassell, Mr. . 
Cavour, Camille 
" Caxtons, the " 
Cellini, Benevuto 
Chalmers, Dr. 
Chambers, Dr. R. . 
Chambers, W. 
Chantrey, Sir Frances 
Chatham, Lord 
Chesterfield, Lord . 



(Lord 



28, 

82, 



124 

46 

136 

184 

138 

25 

319 

363 

372 

37 
11 
325 
196 
101 
230 
192 

168 



119 

87 

152 

43 

323 

323 

69 

46 

28 

150 

201 

201 

320 

153 

372 



3 &6 



INDEX. 



Chickering, Mr., of Boston 

Childs, George W. . 

Cicero, M. T. . . 106, 

Clark, Dr. Adam . 

Cobden, R., quoted 

Colburn, Zerah 

Coleridge, quoted . 22, 141, 

Cotton, W. 

Commerce, benefits of 

Commercial morality 

Connington 

Correggio 

Courtesy, habits of . 

Courtesy, examples of 178, 179, 

Coutts, Thomas, 233, anecdote 

of 

Coutts, Lady Burdett 
Cockburn, Lord, quoted . 
Cowley, quoted 

Cumberland, Richard, quoted . 
Cuvier . 



Dalling, Lord, advice to his 

daughter . 
Dante .... 
Davenant, Sir W., quoted 
Davy, Sir Humphrey 
Dawson, George, quoted 246 
Decision 
Defoe, Daniel 
Denison, Joseph 
Desultoriness . 
Dickens, Charles, quoted 
Difficulties, the overcoming of 
Disraeli (See Beacons field) 
Donne, Dr., quoted 
Drew, Samuel . 

Dryden, quoted 



Economy of Time . 
Economy of Mental Powers 
Edward the black Prince 
Edward, Thomas . 
Elden, Lord . 
Ellenborough, Lord 
Emerson, quoted 44, 49, 60 
Fmrli'sh, the athletic training 



PAGE 
243 
306 

259 

88 
199 
300 
169 
196 
223 
191 
13 
47 
175 
182 

234 
236 

37 1 
12 

110 
10 



338 
62 

53 

61 

280 

143 
191 
326 

63 

61 

288 

53 
89 
36 



17 
271 
114 
304 



182 



of the 


258 


Epictetus, quoted . . 189, 


285 


Etty, William .... 


29 


Ewing, James 


248 


Example, influence of 


18 


Exercise, advantage of open air 


256 


Extravagance .... 
F 

Faraday, Michael . 


131 


67 


Failure, the misery of 


368 


Faucett, Henry 


85 


Feltham, Owen, quoted . 


189 


Ferguson .... 


44 


Foley, Richard 


312 


Foster, John, quoted 38, 145, 


155 


Fox, C. J 


43 


Francis, St., quoted 


283 


Franklin, Ben. . . 11, 


107 


Friendships . . . 41, 


265 


Friends, Sydney, Brooke 


41 


Byron, Shelley, Tennyson, 




Hallam, (A. H.), Sterling, 




Reynolds, Northcote, Gomez, 




Murillo, Handel, Hayden . 


42 


Fox, Burke, Cicero, Atticus, 




Xenophon, Sociates, Crom- 




well, Hampden, Canning, 




Pitt, Paley, Cassius, Brutus, 




Edwardes, Nicholson, South- 




hampton, Sidney, Peel, Wel- 




lington, Hare, Sterling, 




Kingsley, Maurice, Coler- 




idge, Southey 


265 


Freedley, his maxims, quoted . 


361 



Genius .... 

Genius, the patience of, Men 
delssohn, Canova, Beethoven 
M. Angelo, Turner, Gibbon 
Macready, Garrick, Siddons 
Kean, E. . . . 

Giardini, 

Gibbon, Edward 

Girard, Stephen 

Gladstone, Mr., of Liverpool 

Gladstone, W. E., quoted 



142 



81 

57 
249 

78 

2T3 

358 







PAGE 


C.A.. 




PAGE 


Goethe . . 53, 


273, 


352 


Knowledge of ourselves, 


the 




Good, Dr. Mason . 




IO 


right .... 




185 


Gomez, Sebastian . 




83 


Keats, quoted 




368 


Gray .... 




IO6 








Grigg, Mr. 




I2g 


L 






" Guesses at Truth," quoted . 


249 








Getting on 




377 


Labor, nobleness of 
Labor, Carlyle upon 




340 
341 


H 






Labor, healthfulness of . 
Laboring class, men sp 


rung 


347 


Hale, Sir M. , 




10 


from the 




265 


Hall, Robert, quoted 




183 


Lafitte, Jacques 




235 


Handel, .... 




34 


Law, George . 




37 


Hanway, Jonas 




240 


Lawrence, Cornelius 




77 


Hay ward, A., quoted 




33i 


Lawson, Mr. . 




58 


Hawkwood, Sir John 




26 


Lee, Gideon . 




170 


Health .... 


164 


254 


Lewes, G. H., quoted 




120 


Helps, Sir Arthur . 164, 


169 


354 


Life, Philosophy of 




353 


Herbert, George, quoted 38, 43 


, 189 


Liston, the actor 




47 


Hobson, Admiral . 




26 


Literature and business . 




168 


Hogarth . . 




47 


Livingstone, Dr. 




152 


Horace 24, quoted . 




. 286 


Longevity and Labor 




350 


Houghton, Lord, quoted 




• 73 


Longfellow, H. W., quoted 86 


, 34i 


Huxley, Professor, quoted 




355 


Lorraine, Claude 




27 


Hooker .... 




343 


Louis XIV, quoted, 




97 


Homer .... 




. 348 


Lyndhurst, Lord 




136 


Horner, Francis 




. 37i 


Lytton, Lord 61, quoted 189 




Hunter, John . 




• 363 


364, 369, . 




372 


I 






Lubbuck, Sir John . 




358 


Imitation, avoidance of , 




. 187 


M 






Ingram, Herbert 




. 179 


Macaulay, T. B., 14, quoted 


. 320 








Macleod, Dr. Norman 


280 


, 317 


J 






Macready, W. C. . 
Magliabecchi . 




. 81 
• 334 


Jacquard, Joseph Marie . 




• 332 


Mann, Horace, quoted . 




. 18 


James I, anecdote of 




• 143 


Marriages 




. 268 


Jeffrey, Lord, quoted 




. 16 


Martineau, Miss, quoted 




• 56 


Jerrold, Douglas 




. 193 


Matsys, Quintin 




• 83 


Jones, SirW. . 




• 15 


Mathews, Professor 


183 


, 358 


Johnson, Dr., quoted 


177 


, 189 


Mackintosh, Sir J. . 




• 153 


Johnson and Boswell 




. 267 


M'Donogh, J. 




. 216 


Johnson and the Thrales 




• 233 


Mellon, Harriet 




• 235 


Jonson, Ben, quoted 




. 53 


Mendelssohn . 
Michelet, quoted 


46 


, 352 
. 40 


K 






Mill, J. S. 




. 70 








Miller, Hugh . 


10 


, 256 


Kane, Dr. 




. 164 


Milton, quoted . 36, 


368 


» 37o 


Kean, E., quoted . 




. 81 


Mirabeau 




. 82 


Kingsley, Canon . 83, 26c 


, 280 


Mohammed 




. 107 



3 88 



INDEX. 



Money, the right use of 

Montaigne 

Montesquieu . 

Montgolner 

Moore, George 

Mother's influence, a 

Mozart . 

Mozley, Dr. quoted 

N 



153 



PAGE 

212 

I6 7 
352 
370 
308 

39 
34 
13 



Napier, Sir Charles . .310 

Napoleon I 147 
Natural instinct of men of 

genius .... 48 

Nelson, Lord . . .36, 96 

Newton, Sir Isaac . . . 352 

Nicole, Pierre . . 11 

North, Lord, anecdote of . 138 



Quesnel 353 



Race of life, the 

Rahl, Colonel . 

Raleigh, Sir W. and Queen 

Elizabeth . 
Randolph, John 
Reynolds, Sir Joshua 
Robertson, F. W. 11, quoted 
Romance of business 
Rosa Salvator 
Rothschild, N. Meyer, 57, an 

ecdotes of . 
Rothschilds, the 
Rumford, Count, career of 



Opie 114 

Opportunities, making the most 

of 378 

Oratory, charms of . . 180 

Oratory, examples of . .180 
Originality . . . .185 
Overwork, evils of . . . 345 

Overwork, examples of . . 349 
Oxenstyerna .... 353 



Paley 44 

Palgrave, F. T., quoted . . 99 
Palissy, Bernard ... 85 
Pascal, Blaise .... 225 
Patriotism of commercial enter- 
prise ..... 248 
Peabody, George . . . 326 

Perthes, F 91 

Phipps, Sir William . . 326 

Physical Health . . . 251 
Physical Health, examples 

of . . . . 254, 255 

Piety in Business men . . 196 

Examples .... 199 

" Poor Richard," quoted . 363 

Poussin, Nicholas . . 28, 330 



Sabbath, the observance of 
Saint Simon, Duke of, quoted 
Scott, Sir Walter, 187, quoted 

94, breakdown 
Secret of Success, the 
Self-discipline 
Self-control 
Self-help 

Self-reliance . . .115 
Self-respect 

Shakespeare, quoted . 103 
Shelley, quoted 

Sheridan, General, anecdote of 
Shortness of life 
Sleep, due proportion of . 
Smeaton, anecdote of 
Smiles, quoted 
Smith, Sydney, quoted 33, 57 

74, 99, 108, 
Smith, W. H. 
Somers, Lord 
Speke .... 
Steady purpose, a 
Stephenson, George . 224 

Sterling, John 
Stewart, A. T. 

Success, the secret of . 94, 
Suffering, the use of, examples 
Swinburne, quoted 



221 
117 

377 







INDEX. 




389 






PAGE 






PAGE 


T 






Voltaire, 




. 156 


Tact 




134 


Vere, Aubrey de, quoted 




386 


Taine, quoted 


. 


I05 








Talent . 


. 


29 


W 






Taylor, Sir H., quoted 


169, 


354 








Temperance, advantages 


of . 


26r 


Washington, G. 




165 


Temple, Bishop, quoted 




87 


Watt, James . 


60 


348 


Tennyson, quoted 45, 51 


, 249, 




Webster, D., quoted 


74 


, 258 


284, 289, 




347 


anecdote of 




265 


Tenterden, Lord 




294 


Wedgewood, Josiah 




224 


Thales, anecdote of 




167 


Weed, Thurlow, quoted . 




93 


Thiers, M. 




115 


Wesley, John, quoted 




11 


Thrales, the . 




233 


West, Ben. 




114 


Time and its uses . 


, 


5 


White, Henry Kirke 




10 


Training, spiritual . 




279 


Wife, a good . 




269 


Training, physical . 


. 


251 


Wilkie, David 




45 


Turner, M. W. 


27. 


255 


Wilson, George, 157, quoted 


,49 


157 


Thompson, Benjamin 


(See 




Winans, Mr. . 




179 


Rum ford, Count) 






Women, influence of 




38 


Theories of Life 


. 


355 


Wordsworth, quoted 144, 


176 


257 


V 






his patience 




338 






Work as a means to and end 


345 


Versatility . . 


. 


61 


Wellington, sayings of 




349 



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